


Through Fire and Flames

by sarahenany, Thursday26



Series: Through Fire and Flames [1]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), race to the edge - Fandom
Genre: Canon Related, Gen, Hiccup Whump, Hurt Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Poisoning, Possible Spoilers, Torture, Violence, extreme interrogation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-08-06 16:13:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16390988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahenany/pseuds/sarahenany, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thursday26/pseuds/Thursday26
Summary: When there's the race for the Dragon Eye lenses, Hiccup gets captured and interrogated.





	1. Interrogation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashleybenlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashleybenlove/gifts).



> hello everyone... i have had this kicking around for a while and i am trying to get everything in my backlog out for everyone to see, as i've done so much world building for this universe and i want to share that
> 
> other works are still being worked on, but i got through the process of editing this and i can't hold onto it just for meself! 
> 
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE mind the tags. I deal with extreme themes and violence and if you've read Dragon Fights, you know I don't pull any punches, and this work does not hold back. Hiccup gets very very VERY hurt in this fic and I just want to make sure you're aware of this. If you continue beyond this point, you have been warned! Otherwise, hopefully you enjoy it
> 
> really, please mind the warnings! even made me squeamish while writing! 
> 
> that being said, a special thanks to sarahenany for beta-ing for me and helping me polish up my goblin child <3

Hiccup and Toothless barrel roll and dive, avoiding a fireball aimed at them and gathering speed, trying for another retreat, but their flight path is cut off by a Singetail. Hiccup curses, Toothless rumbling under him in annoyance. Hiccup doesn’t understand. Flyers haven’t been sighted in this part of the archipelago before, not in the months that there have been patrols out here nor in the reports from the traders and merchants that sail these seas. It was a slow day on the Edge, so Hiccup and Toothless came out to the area for some light scouting. Mostly it was an excuse to go for a little bit of a longer flight. And it  _ should  _ have been safe. Nothing happens out here!

So they went off alone.

Mistake.

It was a good flight, the skies dotted with fluffy clouds, a gentle breeze over the open water. They were having a good time. Then, when they were far enough away that Toothless’ distress signal was a lot weaker (that’s the thing with distress signals: they work better the closer one is to help), six Flyers, plus Krogan, descended on them. Hiccup and Toothless tried to get around them, to get closer to the Edge, either to escape or have a better chance of their distress signal be picked up by their team, but Krogan and his Flyers herded them further away. Herded them like sheep.

Hiccup is racking his brain for some way to get out of this situation, relying on Toothless to focus his attention on the Singetails circling them and herding them further  and further away from the Edge, Hiccup snapping the prosthetic into place at almost the same moment Toothless moves. He’s looking around their aerial battlefield, taking in each of the Flyers and trying to think of some way to get around them. How did they surround them?  There’s a lot of space between all of them, so Hiccup doesn’t feel like he’s enclosed, but he and Toothless have definitely been surrounded. 

His eyes lock on an opening between two of the Flyers. A small gap that’s a little bigger than the other spaces, that maybe they could get through, but Hiccup hesitates. And all it takes is that one moment, an instant of moving his focus from the Flyers, for Toothless to get hit. He jerks under Hiccup, listing to the side.The sound Toothless makes… Hiccup has never heard such a sound before. “Toothless!” Hiccup cries out, hands tightening on the saddle. He can feel panic swelling inside him, dangerous when he needs a clear head, but all he can hear is the sound Toothless made.

He’s not looking at the Flyers anymore.

Toothless lists to the side, panting, and is hit again. Not a direct hit like the first time. Somehow he manages to roll them over and the fireball grazes near Hiccup’s good foot. Hiccup can feel the heat and his throat closes with the knowledge that Toothless felt that in a direct hit. He knows that dragons are pretty fireproof on the outside, but he can’t shake that the heat  _ still hurts _ .

Hiccup is looking over his shoulder and sees the fireball coming from the corner of his eye. It’s too late when he focuses on it. He watches it crash into Toothless’ prosthetic, the leather incinerating in moments with the intense heat. Toothless reacts by straightening them out into a glide, but they’re still losing altitude. And they’re a big target now. They can’t flip and twirl or roll away from another attack. Hiccup snaps his attention below the Flyers, trying to find anywhere they can land.

There are some non-human-inhabited islands this far out, but they are much smaller than the Edge, or Berk. He spots one that’s close, with a tiny forest that they could maybe hide in, and Hiccup tries to steer Toothless there. Hiccup can tell when Toothless spots the island because he adjusts himself and they start to accelerate toward it. Hiccup flattens himself over the saddle, trying to reduce drag, eyes locked on the land.

Another mistake.

They’re hit again, close to the island. Toothless cries out and they plummet from the sky. Hiccup screams in shock and fear. The ground is coming at them so fast. Toothless can’t readjust his position in time. He tries to pull up, wings flapping out, trying to slow their descent, but it’s already too late. 

They land. Hard. Toothless’ back legs hit the ground first, buckling under the impact, his front half slamming into the ground, chin first. The momentum sends Hiccup flying from Toothless’ back,  his prosthetic ripping out of the flying mechanism and jarring his knee. 

Hiccup rolls and manages to get his feet under himself, his left knee buckling with a twinge of pain, and rushes back to Toothless, who seems to have rolled as well. Hiccup drops to his knees next to Toothless, placing gentle hands on the dragon’s side and blinking back tears as he takes in the injuries. Toothless is unconscious and breathing. The hide on his side is burnt and the flying mechanism is hot to the touch. “Shit,” Hiccup curses, desperately wishing he could remove the heat and the injuries, while fighting back the tears stinging his eyes.

There’s noise above him and Hiccup looks up. All the Flyers are hovering over him. He clenches his jaw, trying to think of anything. What can he do? He can’t fight six Singetails, one Titanwing Singetail, the Flyers,  _ and Krogan _ with just his wits and his flaming sword. Is this how it ends? He covers Toothless’ head with his body. Even if this is the end, they won’t get Toothless so easily. They’ll have to kill him to get to Toothless.

He braces for the inevitable flame, wondering if burning alive will hurt, but nothing comes. Hiccup cautiously looks up. The Flyers are still there, watching him. They look amused. 

“We have some questions for you,” Krogan calls from the back of his Titanwing, casual.

“I don’t accept your apology!” Hiccup yells back, shaking. The shaking doesn’t translate into his voice, but his snark is all he has now. He isn’t going to die silently. Not this time anyway.

Krogan laughs, a single bark of amusement that leaves a smile on his face. “Very funny, Hiccup. But I wasn’t asking for your forgiveness. I have bigger things to worry about.” He doesn’t look away from Hiccup, signalling three Flyers.

One Singetail swoops down and plucks Hiccup off Toothless. He screams and thrashes, kicking the air and trying to pull his arms from the Singetail’s hold. Hiccup watches as two other Flyers land next to Toothless and pull out some dragon-proof chains. “NO!” Hiccup cries, struggling in the Singetail’s hold. He is only able to watch them for a moment. Krogan turns and flies off, the remaining men following him, taking Hiccup with them. 

“No! Toothless!” Hiccup screams, trying to look over his shoulder, like there’s something he can do by keeping his eyes on his best friend. He’s only able to catch glimpses of Toothless wrapped in dragon-proof chains until he’s too far to see him anymore.

In the air, with the wind rushing past him, Hiccup can’t contain his tears. He cries and curses Krogan, promising every bad thing he can think of on Krogan’s head. He doesn’t know if Krogan can hear him cursing his name because he never turns around, but beyond the wind Hiccup can hear the other Flyers laughing at him. He doesn’t care what they are seeing or hearing from him. They can get cursed as well.

Hiccup has nearly screamed himself hoarse by the time they land on another island. They set down in the center of a small Hunter base that’s bustling with activity, Flyers and Hunters everywhere. That doesn’t stop Hiccup from trying to run the moment his feet touch the ground, even if he’s still wobbly from dangling in the air so long and his knee is throbbing. He can’t feel his face or his fingers and his escape is more comical than threatening, but he isn’t going to make this easy for them.

Unsurprisingly, Hiccup doesn’t get far. He’s grabbed by at least two men and dragged, kicking and screaming, into a hut, where he’s tied to a chair. He manages to get a couple of good hits in before his arms are tied down completely, then he tries kicking with his foot and his peg. The peg hurts more than the foot, and more than once the men curse at him. Still, they seem to be having far too much fun tying him down. Hiccup manages to bite one of the men, deep in the arm, locking his jaw until he can taste blood on his teeth. The man punches Hiccup in the head over and over, until he releases the arm. He winds up for another blow, but there’s a firm hand holding the fist back. Krogan.

Hiccup tries to control his breathing and glares at Krogan as darkly as he can manage. Krogan returns the look with calm detachment. “That’s enough, don’t you think?” he asks the man, voice smooth.

“He tore up my arm!” the man argues, holding said arm up. There’s a deep red, teeth-shaped gash, which is sluggishly bleeding. Hiccup doesn’t hide how smug he feels at the sight. It’s a nasty wound, probably going to get infected if he doesn’t do something about it right away. The man spots Hiccup’s face and fire dances in his eyes. “The little shit is proud too!”

He moves to attack Hiccup, but Krogan steps between them. “You’re dismissed,” he states, calm. Hiccup wriggles in his bonds, testing them. The ties around his legs are loose and he shifts and squirms, trying to free himself without drawing attention to it. His arms are tied down tight though, but right now, anything is better than nothing.

“But—”

“I said: you’re dismissed,” Krogan repeats, voice dropping dangerously. 

The man’s mouth snaps shut and he shoots one more glare at Hiccup. Hiccup makes sure to smile with his teeth, which are no doubt covered with blood. The man’s fists clench at his sides, but he doesn’t move towards Hiccup again.  Krogan glares somewhere behind Hiccup, probably at the rest of the men. Hiccup can hear them shuffle out and a door close. 

Krogan relaxes, sighing and stepping around behind Hiccup. “Well, now that we have some privacy,” he says casually, reappearing with a small table. He sets it in front of Hiccup and wanders behind him again. “I have some questions about the Dragon Eye lenses,” he continues, coming back into view holding some supplies and putting them on the table. “I'm certain you are more than ready to answer my questions honestly and swiftly.”

Hiccup spits at Krogan’s feet, the bloody glob landing on Krogan’s shoe. The rope around Hiccup’s good foot falls away and he tries to release his prosthetic quietly. 

Krogan frowns at his shoe and looks at Hiccup with such disappointment. Hiccup wishes that he had an arm free so he could punch that look right off his face. “That’s just rude, Hiccup,” he chastises. “You’re a guest here. Where are your manners?”

“I'm not a guest,” Hiccup growls. Krogan is rearranging the supplies he set on the table, inching them into position and running gentle fingers over them. Hiccup blinks at the tools, trying to focus on what they are. He can recognize some of the tools there. They wouldn’t look out of place in a smithy, and there are a couple of vials of liquid with labels that have symbols that Hiccup doesn’t recognize. “I'm a prisoner.” The other rope falls away. Hiccup sits calmly, not wanting to draw attention to having two free legs now.

“No, Hiccup. You are a guest!” Krogan tuts, shaking his head. “I invited you into my hut for a nice conversation.” He motions to the small hut they’re inside. It’s a generic hut. Hiccup doubts that this is Krogan’s personal space. “If you were a prisoner,” he continues, “you’d be in a cell.” 

He smiles at Hiccup, dangerous and dark. Hiccup does not flinch under the look, even though every part of him wants to. Krogan stares for a moment too long, then grabs a chair, sitting himself across from Hiccup and leaning forwards. “Now, let’s talk.”

Hiccup stares at Krogan for a moment, eyes wide, disbelief coursing through him. How can he act so… civilly after attacking him? How does he expect Hiccup to act? Calm? “Wow, Krogan,” Hiccup chuckles bitterly, far too many teeth on display to be considered a smile, “I didn’t realize that you were so bad at making friends that you had to  _ shoot them from the sky!” _

He can’t control himself: he kicks out and his leg cracks into Krogan’s shin. The metal of his prosthetic connects with the bone of Krogan’s leg, the impact vibrating through the bone of his stump, through his knee, and up his spine. The impact resonates at the top of his spine, nausea curling in the back of his throat. 

Krogan yelps and jumps up, hopping around in pain for a moment before turning a dark glare on Hiccup. He grabs the back of Hiccup’s head, pulling his hair hard and leaning over his prisoner. “You insolent little—”

“Fuck you!” Hiccup snaps, tempted to spit in Krogan’s face, but the likelihood of Hiccup spitting in his own face is too high. Krogan growls and tightens his hold on Hiccup’s hair, as if to try and cow him. Hiccup won’t give him the satisfaction. “You hurt Toothless. You’re never going to get me to talk about anything other than how much I hate everything about you,” Hiccup growls through his teeth.

Krogan releases his hold and smacks Hiccup across the face: open-palm, but it still stings. “Keep talking with such impudence and I’ll kill your precious Night Fury in front of you,” he warns, looking like he expects that threat to have some sort of effect on Hiccup.

Hiccup laughs instead. “You’re an idiot.”

Krogan jerks back, offended. “Idiot? How am _ I _ an idiot? I didn’t leave the only Night Fury in existence on an island to die. Those Flyers are bringing him here, too. Now, your precious dragon  _ is _ a prisoner: we have a nice little cell with his ridiculous name on it.”

Hiccup laughs again, his head falling back. “You’re an idiot,” he repeats. He isn’t about to explain that bringing Toothless to the same island as him is idiotic if he plans to keep them both prisoner. It really isn’t his place to teach these idiots a lesson that they should have learned by now.

Krogan sighs and sits, calm again. “Is that all you’re going to say? Resorting to name-calling? I thought you were better than that, Hiccup.”

“I'm sorry,” Hiccup snorts, “I'm not about to take a morality lesson from someone who thinks it’s okay to shoot his guests out of the sky.” Hiccup gives Krogan a bored look. Krogan is frowning at him. “You’re kind of bad at this talking thing, huh?” Hiccup adds. “Where’s Viggo? I mean he’s not perfect, but at least he’s better at this than you are.”

Krogan’s cheeks puff out and his gaze darkens, but he doesn’t say a word. It takes a moment, but fear trickles down Hiccup’s spine. Oh. Viggo isn’t here anymore. That can mean one of two things: one, Viggo left to do his own thing, or two—the more likely option—Viggo has been disposed of.

He was a pain in the ass, but he was also one of the few enemies to consistently outsmart and outmaneuver Hiccup and the Riders, even Stoick. A formidable opponent, worthy of respect. There’s no love lost for Viggo, but for Krogan and whoever he works for to toss someone like Viggo aside–like it’s nothing–they don’t care about a person’s value.

Krogan clears his throat, dragging Hiccup’s attention from where he was in his mind back to his very rude host. “Where Viggo is is none of your concern.” He reaches and puts his hand on the table. “Now I have some questions for you, and I want you to answer them, or I will be forced to use some of these…” he waves his hand towards the small table, “…supplies to try and get the truth out of you.” He gives Hiccup a very serious look. “I will be getting the truth no matter what, so you might as well go with the option that has less pain.”

Hiccup swallows and sits as straight as he can, staring Krogan in the eyes. “You can try,” he challenges. And, because he can, he adds, “Idiot.”

_ SMACK. _

Krogan’s hand cracks across Hiccup’s face again, hard. Hiccup’s head jerks to the side under the force. “Where are your Dragon Eye lenses?” he asks, calm but with inflection.

Hiccup looks straight at Krogan, cheek burning. “Hidden.”

Krogan hits him again, with a closed fist this time. Hiccup cries out, unable to hold the sound back. It feels like his brain has been rattled around his head. Krogan grips Hiccup by the hair and forces him to make eye contact before the pain fully subsides. “Where are they hidden?” he growls.

Hiccup presses his lips together as tightly as he can.

Krogan hits him across the face again and once in the stomach. Hiccup can taste blood in his mouth and he knows it’s not the blood of the man he bit earlier. Throughout, Krogan doesn’t let go of Hiccup’s hair, keeping his head in place. Hiccup is trying to breathe, the punch to the gut knocking the wind out of him. Krogan waits until Hiccup isn’t gasping so loudly for air before he leans in close, eyes on fire. “Where are they hidden?”

Hiccup licks his teeth and whispers, “Somewhere private.”

Krogan snarls and releases Hiccup’s head with one last  painful tug. “Fine,” he spits, “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do this.” He turns his back on Hiccup, focused on his tiny table with his tools. Hiccup takes the moment to breathe, allowing his face to twist in pain while his captor can’t see him. His breathing is a little too loud; not surprising with a hit to the stomach. Hiccup is more worried about showing how much he’s hurting.

Krogan picks up and sets down some of the tools, as if inspecting them. Hiccup watches his back, trying to decipher what each tool is from the poor angle. He thinks he may have seen a hammer in there, but he doesn’t know for sure. Hiccup silently curses, wishing he had paid more attention earlier. Krogan turns around, a tool in each hand. Hiccup blinks, trying to make them out, but he’s more focused on trying to mask his pain before Krogan can see it. He hopes anyway.

His vision clears. In Krogan’s right hand is a small dagger. It looks a little dull to Hiccup, but he could be wrong. Although it doesn’t look that well-maintained, small specks of rust near the hilt and a chip in the blade that looks to be spreading. In his left hand he has a stiff wire brush, meant to buff the tarnish off metal. Krogan sets the brush on his chair and steps up to Hiccup without another word. He uses the knife to cut down the front of Hiccup’s shirt. “Hey!” Hiccup protects, trying to jerk away from the blade. Krogan ignores him, using his free hand to hold Hiccup by the shoulder. The dagger  _ is _ too dull. Krogan has to put a lot of effort into cutting through the leather of Hiccup’s clothes. 

“What are you doing?!” Hiccup yells, squirming under Krogan’s hold. Eventually the knife gets the job done and Hiccup’s clothes hang off him with jagged lines cut into the material. The air is cold on Hiccup’s bare chest. 

“I'm trying to get you to talk. Seems like you need a little more incentive to tell me the truth,” Krogan replies like he didn’t just cut Hiccup’s clothes off with a dull knife. He stabs the blade down into the meat of Hiccup’s forearm, letting go of the handle and leaving the dagger to stand on its own.

Hiccup screams, his legs kicking out involuntarily. Krogan uses both of his hands to push the tattered clothes off Hiccup’s shoulders, leaving most of his torso exposed and the clothing awkwardly stretched around his biceps. “You fucking bastard!” Hiccup yells, flexing his arm, like he could push the blade out with just his muscles. The effort only hurts, but Hiccup can’t stop trying.

Krogan laughs. “I thought we talked about your manners.”

“Fuck you, you fucking coward,” Hiccup hisses, legs still kicking around like the movement will somehow help.

“Coward?” Krogan echoes, putting his hand to his chest like he’s saying ‘who?  _ Me? _ ’ “Would a coward look you in the eye...” He grabs onto the hilt of the dagger and tugs it out without warning, then presses the dull edge into Hiccup’s exposed chest until it starts to draw blood, a bead forming around the tip. Hiccup barely gets any respite from the dagger being out of his arm. The amount of pressure needed to draw blood hurts so much. Krogan’s face twists and he continues, “...and do this?” He drags the blade, leaving a shallow cut.

Hiccup grunts. The cut hurts, but Krogan lets up on some of the pressure, so the pain is bearable. Honestly, Hiccup has gotten worse scratches inventing something. “A coward would tie up his prisoner and poke and prod at him like he’s somehow better.”

Krogan’s face darkens. “I am tired of repeating myself: you’re not a prisoner, Hiccup.”

“Then give me a weapon,” Hiccup growls back, challenging him.

“Hmm…” Krogan tilts his head, like he’s thinking it over, “…no.”

Hiccup curses everything about Krogan in that moment. Without ceremony, Krogan presses the dagger to Hiccup’s skin again and cuts a long line parallel to the first, down Hiccup’s chest. Then he doesn’t stop. He continues, adding line after line until Hiccup’s chest is littered with cuts, long and short, deep and shallow, overlapping and parallel. Hiccup is panting through the stinging pain.

The pain’s not unbearable, but it’s persistent. Hiccup can smell blood and taste it on the air. He doesn’t want to look down, knowing that his chest will be a wall of crimson. Krogan sighs and tosses the dagger onto the table without much ceremony. It clatters onto the wood and clangs into something metal. Krogan doesn’t look concerned. “Okay, now that we have that fun out of the way, I’ll ask you again, where are your Dragon Eye lenses?”

Hiccup inhales once and glares at Krogan. “You’re desperate, aren’t you?” Despite himself, Hiccup can feel a smile on his face. “Reduced to torturing your enemies, who could still be considered children to some.” Hiccup flexes his hands, feeling the strain in the muscles of his arms at the movement. The arm used as a  mount for the dagger feels hot and heavy around the wound. He licks his lips, forcing his hands to relax. He can’t let Krogan see how much pain he’s in. “What kind of man are you?”

Krogan snickers and sits in his chair, picking up the wire brush. He holds it in both hands, thumbs rubbing over the bristles, but he’s looking straight at Hiccup. “We both know that you are not a child, Hiccup. Don’t pretend otherwise. It’s shameful.”

Hiccup barks out an incredulous laugh. “Are you really lecturing me about what’s shameful?” 

Krogan looks at the brush, this time watching his fingers run over the stiff wire, as if lost in thought. “Someone needs to teach you.” He sits in silence for a few moments. “First of all, not respecting your elders is quite shameful. Refusing to answer their questions also counts.” He snaps his attention to Hiccup, eyes cold. “Stop trying to change the subject. Where are your Dragon Eye lenses?”

Hiccup is listening, but when Krogan looked at the brush, Hiccup’s eyes followed and now he can’t look away. It’s poorly maintained. Sure, wire brushes always look a little rough, their entire purpose to remove the roughness on other materials, but this one is rusted and it looks like some of the bristles have snapped off from misuse. No one has cared for this brush properly. “You’ll never get them from me,” Hiccup responds, still thinking about the poor state of the tools Krogan has. Do they not have a blacksmith on the island? Have they no pride?

Krogan’s hands clench, but otherwise his demeanor doesn’t change. “You’re a smart man, Hiccup. You can probably tell what I want to use this for.” He shakes the brush for a moment. “And I know  _ you know _ that it will be more painful than it’s worth to keep your mouth shut. So why don’t you spare yourself some unnecessary pain and tell me what I want to know?”

Hiccup has a pretty good guess what Krogan will do with that brush (he’s a little suspicious that the rust isn’t rust. Or isn’t only rust), but he’ll have to kill Hiccup to get the information. Some things are bigger than Hiccup, and he knows that keeping his mouth shut is his best bet to protect that. He bites his lips and they sit in silence for a few moments.

Krogan’s face gets darker and darker the longer Hiccup stays silent. Then he stands up without warning, knocking his chair back. “Remember, you could have avoided this.”

Hiccup breathes in through his nose and out through clenched teeth, glaring at Krogan. There’s no way he’ll give in, no matter what he does. Krogan steps in close and places the bristles of the brush on his chest. Hiccup’s breathing picks up, but he doesn’t saying anything. Krogan applies a little pressure, some of the bristle ends digging into open cuts, and leans close, whispering, “Last chance to speak up.”

Hiccup channels all his hatred into his eyes. “Fuck you,” he growls out.

Krogan’s face twists with contempt as he presses the brush down harder, then drags the bristles down Hiccup’s chest. Hiccup screams, unable to hold back. Wire brushes hurt against skin without open wounds, so this is agony. The tips of the brush catch the edges of open cuts and rip Hiccup’s skin. The patches of skin without open wounds are left scored with raised, red lines.

The brush lifts off skin and Hiccup realizes that Krogan only dragged the brush down his chest once. He repositions the brush and scrapes it down Hiccup’s chest in the other direction, crossing over the lines he’s already made. Hiccup screams again, thrashing against the ropes that hold him in place. His legs kick out again, sometimes hitting Krogan, but Hiccup can’t focus on putting any effort into hurting Krogan when his chest is on fire.

Krogan lifts the brush again, but instead of drawing another painful line down his chest, he hits Hiccup across the face with it, bristles digging into his jaw. It hurts enough to stun Hiccup into silence. “Stop screaming so much,” Krogan snarls. Then he smiles. “What kind of man are you?”

Hiccup doubles over, putting his head between his knees to stave off the urge to throw up. He’s panting and wonders if the brush broke the skin on his face. What kind of man is he? Well… there’s one thing he knows for sure. “I'm a better man than you,” he says, voice strained.

Krogan grabs the top of Hiccup’s head and forces Hiccup to look up. Hiccup squints, having trouble focusing on Krogan’s face. That can’t be good. Whatever he can focus on, Krogan looks angry. “Where are the Dragon Eye lenses?”

“I don’t know where you keep yours,” Hiccup states, closing his eyes. Wow, he really will throw up soon. No use warning Krogan, Hiccup muses, feeling a petty desire to throw up all over his captor. His nausea isn’t helped by the smell of blood and sweat, and that he feels feverish, but cold at the same time.

Krogan hits him again, with his empty palm. Hiccup jerks to the side, since Krogan has released his hair, and vomits over his own arm. It’s not much, and it’s nowhere near Krogan. A shame, really. “You’re stubborn for a weakling. I’ll have to do something a little more… painful.”

Hiccup whines. Something more painful than tearing at his skin with a blunt tool? Krogan pushes Hiccup’s shoulder back so he’s sitting up straight and turns back to his table of tools. Hiccup closes his eyes, trying to keep his breathing even. There’s a mantra in his head, reminding him that this is the right thing to do, no matter what he must endure. Krogan may kill him but staying silent is the right thing to do. And there’s no guarantee that Krogan wouldn’t kill him if he said anything anyway, not that telling him is an option.

There’s a light slap on the side of Hiccup’s face and he opens his eyes. Krogan is back in his chair, much too close, another tool in his hands. “Can’t have you falling asleep. I still need some answers from you.”

Hiccup sighs, but otherwise doesn’t respond. There’s no point.

Krogan holds his tool up and Hiccup’s eyes widen. It’s a neat little pair of pliers meant for pulling smaller nails out of metal. These pliers look well-maintained, free of rust and well-oiled. Krogan clicks them open and closed, a cruel smile on his face. “Again, you can probably guess what I want to use these for, you’re a smart kid. But just in case, I’ll also give you a hint.” Hiccup’s breathing picks up. “I'm going to ask ten more times.” Hiccup swallows. “By then, I am pretty sure my patience will have run out.”

Hiccup flexes his hands, hiding the ends of his fingers in his fists.

No. No. No.

Krogan focuses on Hiccup’s left hand first, uncurling the fingers from his fist and bracing the index finger. Hiccup struggles, but there isn’t much he can do. The ropes around his arms and wrists keep his hand pinned. All he can do is flex his hands in protest, but with Krogan holding him in place… he’s entirely at Krogan’s mercy.

There’s a little bit of a fight when the pliers get close to his finger. Hiccup can’t give up too easily, but he freezes when the tips of the pliers dig under his fingernail and clamp onto it. Hiccup breathes through his nose in short bursts, biting his lip and tongue alternately. Krogan is looking at him, calm. Like they are friends. Like nothing is amiss. “Where are your Dragon Eye lenses?”

Hiccup can feel tears running down his face, he can’t stop them, but he isn’t scared of what Krogan is going to do. Not like Krogan wants him to be scared. “Hidden from you,” he spits, bracing himself.

Krogan tuts and shakes his head, like Hiccup is a child that has disappointed him. “You think you’d learn…” The pressure increases at the end of Hiccup’s finger, the pain starting at the cuticle.

And Hiccup screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so if you made it this far, i hope you heeded the warnings! comments and kudos always welcome! but if you don't have anything nice to say... well, you know the rest <3
> 
> thank you for reading it! hopefully i see you around when i post the next part <3


	2. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's happened to Toothless?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, if you're here I think you've heeded the tags, but i did add another tag, so please check that out! i won't be offended if you decide to ditch because of it, we all have our things. The new tag isn't in effect quite yet, but she's a coming and it will be.. intense
> 
> anyway another thank you to sarahenany for helping me with my goblin child and putting up with my stubbornness to not want to change anything. She makes eveyrthing better i swear to gods

Toothless jolts awake to the sound of Hiccup screaming. 

There’s still some distance between Toothless and those screams, but Hiccup sounds like he’s in pain. He tries to raise his head, to get a better idea of where the noise is coming from, but it isn’t that easy. He’s suspended in a net between two Singetails, with every limb wrapped in dragon-proof chains. His head swims from the movement and he can’t exactly remember how he got here. What happened? Wasn’t he with Hiccup? Why does his side hurt? Why does it feel like he’s been burned?

Then it all crashes back into him. They were fighting the Singetails and they lost. Toothless failed. He failed to protect Hiccup. He has no memory of landing, on land or in the water. They were flying towards an island when the Singetails landed another fireball and the pain made everything go black. Hopefully they landed on the island and not in the water. Hopefully Hiccup hasn’t been taken and it’s only Toothless that has been captured.

But when has Toothless ever been so lucky? Especially when it comes to Hiccup protecting himself instead of trying to save everyone else? For a moment, Toothless convinces himself that Hiccup somehow escaped, but then there’s another blood-curdling shriek. That’s Hiccup, his scream cutting through the air like lightning.

Toothless’ nostrils flare and he forces himself to stay still. The Singetails are flying him towards the island where Hiccup’s screams are coming from. The island is getting closer, but it’s still too far away. Toothless’ muscles strain with the need to stay still. He wants to thrash and cry out, to tell Hiccup that he won’t be hurting anymore, but they’re still over water. Toothless knows that if he thrashes and they drop him in the water, he will most likely drown.

Every moment feels like hours stretched between flying over the ocean. His gaze is fixed on the approaching land. It kills Toothless to stay still when he hears another scream ring out over the ocean. It sickens him to note that all the humans around him don’t appear to be bothered by the sickening sound of someone in pain. In fact, one of the Flyers starts to laugh and mock Hiccup’s screams. Toothless almost has to force himself into stasis to prevent himself from lashing out despite the fact that he’ll drown if he gets dropped into the ocean.

The moment that most of Toothless is over solid ground, he thrashes. The movement is so sudden that the Singetails cry out in surprise and lose their balance. The Flyers are grunting and trying to get the wild dragons under control, but the dragons bump into each other and turn on one another. They snap and claw, ignoring the Flyers on their backs.

That’s good. With the Flyers focused on trying to get their Singetails under control, they ignore how Toothless is still fighting to get out of the net. They notice the moment that the Singetails release the net because of the surprised noise Toothless makes. He crashes into the ground with a loud  _ oomph _ . The fall hurts for a moment; then there’s another scream from Hiccup, so much closer, within running distance.

He can’t focus on his own pain right now, not when Hiccup is hurting so much. He wiggles and rolls, somehow coming out of the net, and starts to flop around, trying to loosen the chains. As he fights to get out the chains,notices that the Flyers have landed their dragons on either side of him. Toothless growls in annoyance. He doesn’t have time to deal with these guys again. The Flyers are yelling something at one another. Toothless doesn’t care what they’re saying. He flops and thrashes enough for them to know that if they get close enough, Toothless is going to give them a good smack with his tail.

And none of that no-killing stuff right now. If they get close enough, Toothless won’t hesitate to try and kill.

Hiccup screams again and Toothless screams too, frustrated that all he’s managed to do is flop around like a fish. A sharp bolt of pain rushes through him when the flying mechanism stabs into one of his burns on one bad thrash. Toothless screeches, dragging his head on the ground in pain and his thrashes pause for a moment. The dragging motion loosens one of the chains wrapped around his head. Good. That’s a start.

Toothless wriggles and squirms, feeling all the chains start to loosen around him. The chains around his forelegs fall first, followed by his back legs, then the ones wrapped around his wings. He paws at the loosened chain that has him muzzled, the binding falling away with a clatter. These Flyers are amateurs. All the chains falling away when one is loosened? Rookie mistake. 

He stands and turns his attention to the Flyers and the Singetails, teeth bared. Toothless is beyond firing warning shots, and the Singetails appear to pick up on that. They look warily at one another, knowing that if they try to attack there will be no warning shot. The Flyers don’t seem to have picked up on that, unsheathing weapons and netting. Toothless has no idea where they were storing that stuff, but it doesn’t matter. He’s not going to wait for the Flyers to understand what’s going to happen if they don’t leave right now. They have sealed their fate. He roars and takes a step towards them, fully intending to fight them all to the bitter end. 

Before he can start blasting, before he can take another step closer, the Singetails turn and fly off, despite the humans protesting on their backs. He doesn’t have time to follow them. They’ll live.

For now.

He turns his nose up to the air and sniffs, trying to locate Hiccup. The scent isn’t hard to pick up, but Hiccup’s normal scent is coated with the metallic odor of blood and tinged with  _ fear-please-stop _ . 

Toothless breaks into a run, following the scent, his vision narrowing. Nothing else around him matters.

He pelts through a crowded square, knocking men over like hatchlings. Others make noises of surprise, but Toothless only notices them peripherally. His eyes are focused in on a hut where Hiccup’s scent seems  strongest. All of Toothless’ senses focus on the hut. Every other sound filters away and Toothless can hear Hiccup. “ _ —Stop please. No. Don’t. Please. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Krogan NO! _ ” Hiccup screams.

Toothless doesn’t slow down, lowering his head and ramming into the door and bursting through the heavy wood like it’s nothing.

He has to take a moment to collect himself, a little rattled, before he looks up. Hiccup’s back is to Toothless, with Krogan standing on the other side of Hiccup, frozen. There’s some sort of human tool in his right hand, pincer-like, with something bloody in its jaws. Hiccup’s head is leaning back and he’s breathing heavily, sobs cracking through him.

Toothless is stuck for a moment, eyes darting between Krogan’s surprised face and the bloodied tool in his hand. He doesn’t understand what he’s seeing.

Krogan moves first, hand darting out to a small table. Toothless reacts without thought, shooting a plasma blast at the table and destroying it with whatever was on it. Krogan pulls his hand back, hissing and glaring at Toothless, like  _ Toothless _ is somehow the monster. All Toothless can smell is Hiccup’s blood and fear, Krogan’s scent completely overpowered by it. 

Toothless has no idea if Krogan is scared, but he’s sure going to give him reason to be. He advances on Krogan. There’s no door on the other side of the hut, the only entrance the one that Toothless blew in through. There’s nowhere for Krogan to run.

Krogan drops his tool and it bounces off the floor, whatever was clasped in its jaw flying out and disappearing into the remains of the table he destroyed. Toothless is distracted by the tool for only an instant, but in that time, Krogan has lifted his leg and planted it in the center of Hiccup’s chest. In the next moment, Krogan kicks out hard, and Hiccup cries out in pain and surprise as the chair tips backward. Toothless doesn’t think; he dives under Hiccup, catching him before he hits the floor.

The chair colliding with Toothless’ head hurts a bit and his chin thunks into the floorboards, but that’s okay. Hiccup is sobbing, partly in relief and partly in pain; Toothless can smell it. He settles Hiccup on the floor gently and looks up again. Krogan is standing in the doorway, an oil lamp raised over his head. As Toothless watches, Krogan throws it to the wooden floor, smashing it and sending oil and fire spilling out. The flames spread quickly, blocking the entrance in moments. Krogan laughs, teeth flashing, and runs.

Toothless is tempted to shoot Krogan in the back, but Hiccup is more important right now. With effort, he turns his attention back to his best friend. Hiccup is still crying, gasping in large gulps of air. The smoke is starting to thicken. Toothless darts to Hiccup’s side, using his teeth to carefully tear at the ropes holding Hiccup’s left arm down. 

Hiccup’s arm shoots out as soon as the ropes fall, knocking Toothless in the chin. “Sorry, sorry,” Hiccup gasps, his face streaked with tears. Toothless purrs to let Hiccup know that he doesn’t blame him. And it’s not like the hit hurt that much either. The impact startled him more than anything.

Quickly, Toothless moves onto the other arm to try and get it free. It’s a little harder to get at these ropes because Hiccup’s free hand is starting to get in the way. He’s trying to claw at the ropes, and is shaking, but every time his fingers touch anything, he flinches away like it hurts. Toothless doesn’t understand, then he realizes that Hiccup is missing his finger-claws. Toothless stares in shock, his attempts to free Hiccup stopping. 

Krogan…  _ removed Hiccup’s claws? _

The smoke is getting heavier around them and Toothless only notices when Hiccup starts to cough. He shakes his head. He can’t focus on that right now. Right now, he needs to get Hiccup somewhere safe. Toothless tears into the rope, his teeth catching Hiccup’s skin. He whines and promises to apologize properly later. Right now, they have to get out.

Hiccup rolls off the chair, scrambling around on the floor for a few moments before getting onto Toothless’ back, curling his face into the nape of Toothless’ neck. Toothless trusts that Hiccup will hold on as tight as he can. He looks around the burning hut. The fire will eventually suffocate Toothless, perhaps even leave a couple of nasty burns, but the heat and flame will kill Hiccup before then, so he has to get out. He looks at exit points: the windows are too small for him to fit through with someone on his back, while the doorway is still open, whatever remained of the door itself now victim to the fire. Toothless can see men beyond the flames, but he doesn’t have a choice.

Toothless shakes minutely, to make sure that Hiccup is secure on his back, then rushes through the flames. He bursts into open air, landing and jumping from Hunter to Flyer alike. They’re scrambling to contain the blaze, seemingly shocked by a dragon coming out of the flames. Thankfully, their focus appears to be more on containing the fire than chasing him and Hiccup. Still, Toothless doesn’t stop running, heading into the woods and darting through the trees like the Red Death is on his tail.

He doesn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave me your comments! <3 love them all and i will respond to them! I have a couple more parts in the editing process, so there may be quick updates for a little bit. I wanna get everything out!


	3. Home, But Not Out of the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are they really out of the woods?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is another short chapter... it's been ready or a bit i just wanted to respond to my comments before i got this out! so any of you getting responses to my comments then a notification for a new chaoter... hello! 
> 
> this chapter dictates a lot of my headcanon when it comes to dragon culture, nothing too specific i would argue, but enough that it is a sort of stnace... idk if i'm even making sense....
> 
> but anyway! I hope you enjoy! I'll try and get the next chapter up soonish! 
> 
> again, please mind the tags (they haven't been updated) and a specifal thanks to sarahenany, who is so goo at dressing up my goblin child so they're presentable <3 seriously, couldn't do this without her <3

Toothless dodges around trees, his entire focus on putting as much space as possible between Hiccup and the people that hurt him. He can’t stop running. They need to get away, but Toothless can’t fly, his prosthetic a skeleton on the end of his tail. Hiccup has spares in the saddlebag, which the Flyers were stupid enough to leave untouched. “Stop, stop,” Hiccup whispers, pushing the heel of his hand into Toothless’ neck to get his attention. Toothless slows, but he can’t force himself to stop yet. “We need to get into the air before the Flyers do.”

It goes against all of Toothless’ instincts, but he knows Hiccup is right. He slows to a stop in a clearing and allows Hiccup to dismount. He has to bite back a whine of protest as Hiccup’s weight leaves his back. Toothless watches Hiccup moving with sharp eyes. Hiccup has his left hand clenched into a fist and pulled close to his chest. Toothless doesn’t hold back his whine this time, not when he sees the state of Hiccup’s chest. It’s a bloody mess of lines and cuts, with half a dirty boot print in the center. Krogan did this, too? 

Hiccup fumbles with the saddlebag, his right hand awkward with the buckles and his breath picking up in frustration the longer he struggles. Toothless remembers that Hiccup’s dominant hand is his left one. He doesn’t fully understand the concept, but Hiccup tried to explain it to him one day. It’s important for some reason? Toothless is filled with the urge to turn back and burn Krogan alive.

Toothless is brought out of his murderous thoughts when he realizes Hiccup is starting to panic and cry. Hiccup’s breathing is uneven, and he has to pause to wipe at his face. Toothless coos and licks Hiccup’s face, trying to soothe him. Even on Hiccup’s face he can taste blood. He pulls back and looks at Hiccup’s jaw. There are some deep cuts there, in a neat little line. He whines at the injury. What has Hiccup been subjected to?

Toothless licks some of the wounds on Hiccup’s chest, tasting blood and dirt, and nuzzles into Hiccup’s side, hoping to soothe him and remind him that he’s not alone. He wishes that he could replace his fin himself, but the truth is he can’t. He has to rely on Hiccup, even though he wishes he could give Hiccup a break. But he can’t.

Still, Toothless’ actions seem to help. Hiccup takes a couple of deep breaths and manages to get the saddlebag open. Hiccup flinches when he reaches into the bag, and Toothless notices that Hiccup’s smallest finger-claw is missing on his right hand. Toothless growls at the thought of such a beast being able to torture another creature like this, but the growling isn’t going to help. Instead, he tries to stay as still as possible as Hiccup switches out the fins. Toothless’ gut clenches with every grunt and gasp of pain Hiccup makes as he removes the broken fin and replaces it with the new one. 

It feels like it takes forever for Hiccup to stuff the skeletal remains of the old fin into the saddlebag and hop onto Toothless’ back. His prosthetic snaps into the flying mechanism and he collapses forward onto Toothless’ back, breathing heavily. Toothless takes a small running start, hating how much it jostles Hiccup, but he has to get into the air. He kicks off, Hiccup working the fin so they stay airborne. He should have waited for Hiccup to pull the lever to fix the fin in place, but they don’t have time. Hiccup is following his lead, giving commands to the fin just a moment after Toothless adjusts them. They stay low flying away from the island. Toothless is pretty sure the Flyers’ll be looking into the skies and not at the horizons for them.

Toothless slows for only a moment to sniff the air to make sure that they are heading in the right direction before gaining altitude and picking up speed. He keeps on going higher and higher until they can disappear into the clouds. There aren’t a lot, but a little bit of cover will be better than nothing at this moment. Toothless doesn’t relax, staying on high alert in case the Flyers find them again. It doesn’t take a genius to know that they are heading back to the Edge. Hopefully Toothless’ speed has given them enough of a head start that the Flyers won’t try to give chase.

He’s so tense that he almost shoots at Hookfang when he flies underneath them, heading in the opposite direction. Toothless doesn’t stop, but he allows himself to relax minutely. The team is here. Or at least Hookfang is. They can fight the Flyers if they catch up. He doesn’t think Hookfang noticed them.

The other Riders’ voices ring out, calling for Hiccup, but Toothless doesn’t want to give away their position. Hiccup, if he’s conscious, seems reluctant to do so as well. They glide for a few tense moments, Toothless feeling torn between telling the team and protecting Hiccup himself. Then Stormfly breaks through the clouds in front of them, screeching in surprise when Toothless veers around her. Toothless screeches back, a harsh reprimand.

“Hiccup!” Astrid yells, sounding relieved, as she and Stormfly level out beside them and match their pace. Toothless snarls at her, disliking the attention that she’s drawing to Hiccup. Stormfly jerks back in surprise at his hostility and Astrid makes a sound of shock.

Stormfly recovers and tries to cover Toothless’ flank, but he doesn’t like that. She’s too close to them _. “Back to the island,” _ he orders Stormfly, barely controlling his anger _. “Gather the others. I won’t be turning around or slowing down.” _

Stormfly nods and veers off, calling to the others, ignoring Astrid’s protests. Toothless continues on, following through on his promise and keeping to the clouds. He doesn’t start his descent until the Edge gets closer. He circles around for a moment, debating between landing at Hiccup’s hut or at Fishlegs’, since the human appears to be the Riders’ healer out here. Fishlegs will have all the supplies Hiccup will need to heal, but he needs to take Hiccup to a safe, familiar place. He turns towards Hiccup’s hut. Fishlegs can bring his supplies over.

Toothless lands and walks into Hiccup’s hut, trying not to jostle Hiccup. Hiccup is panting heavily against the back of his neck and shaking. Toothless stops in the middle of the room and Hiccup tries to dismount, but his feet don’t stay under him. He collapses against Toothless’ side, slowly sliding down to the floor. Toothless makes a sound of distress and nuzzles Hiccup, trying to be as gentle as possible. He flinches back in shock. Hiccup is much too warm for a human. 

Hiccup is sitting on the floor now, back against Toothless, his head leaning back. His eyes are half-closed and glazed over and he’s shaking so hard Toothless is afraid he’ll fly apart. “It hurts,” Hiccup whispers, listing to the side. Thankfully towards Toothless’ head so he can catch Hiccup before he falls. Toothless helps lay him down and Hiccup shakes and swallows heavily. “It hurts.” He twitches violently. “It burns. I can’t—”

And he screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha... another cliffhanger. you see how i like those? I swear i'm not evil
> 
> comments and kudos are always welcome!


	4. Venom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Hiccup screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so i'm excited to get this part out. this is really the part that i wanted when i started this fic and i can't wait to see what you guys have to say about it! I don't think i update the tags at all... should be good in that respect 
> 
> again, would not be in the state it is in without sarahenany <3

Toothless cries out, quieter than Hiccup’s screams, confused and scared. He doesn’t know what to do. Hiccup is so warm, so he thinks he shouldn’t hold the human too close, but he might shake apart if Toothless leaves him be! And it’s getting worse! Hiccup is starting to smell too hot. That can’t be good. Not at all. What can Toothless do?

Multiple dragons land outside Hiccup’s hut and Toothless yells, “ **_Fishlegs only_ ** _! _ ” It’s the only time he’s used his Queen Voice since the defeat of the Red Death.  

He can hear the sputtering protests of the other riders that weren’t permitted to enter. They don’t follow the Queen Voice, but he’s certain their dragons are keeping them at bay. Fishlegs rushes into the hut, a small basket of supplies in his hand. Meatlug hovers by the door but stays outside like she was ordered to. Toothless is grateful; he’s already uneasy with how close Fishlegs is getting and he  _ knows  _ Hiccup needs Fishlegs’ help. “Hiccup!” Fishlegs gasps, falling to his knees next to his injured leader. He turns Hiccup onto his back. Hiccup spasms and cries out, head lolling to the side like his neck can’t support his head anymore, eyes squeezed shut. “What happened?” Fishlegs asks Toothless, hands hovering over Hiccup’s shredded chest.

Toothless tries to calm himself so he can speak Dragonese, but he can’t relax enough to loosen the sounds for the human to understand. “ _ Krogan _ ,” he spits.

Fishlegs looks confused and Toothless curses himself. Why can’t he calm down? Then Meatlug chimes in, translating for him. Fishlegs pales slightly. “Oh.” He shakes his head, fear washing away and an air of determination replacing it. Somehow, that change soothes Toothless a bit. “What did he give Hiccup? He’s not just reacting to his injuries. He’s been given something.”

“Make it stop! Make it stop!” Hiccup screams, writhing in pain.

Toothless whines, ears pressing into his head. “ _ I don’t know! _ ” he says too quickly. “ _ He only started reacting when we landed! He says it burns! _ ” Thank the gods for Meatlug and her translating, even if her Dragonese is a little wobbly with worry. It’s more than enough for Fishlegs to understand.

Fishlegs’ eyes go wide. He doesn’t look scared, exactly, but the small movement makes Toothless uneasy. “Shit. Can you tell if he’s been poisoned with anything specific?”

Toothless shakes his head. “ _ No. Only fever. Smells too hot. _ ”

Meatlug translates. Fishlegs looks extremely worried at that information. He grabs onto Hiccup’s head with both hands, turning him so he’s looking right at Fishlegs. Toothless growls in warning, but Fishlegs doesn’t flinch. “Hiccup! I need you to focus on me!” he yells. Hiccup cries out and Toothless growls again, a firmer threat in his tone. Fishlegs is still unaffected. “Can you answer some questions?”

Hiccup whimpers and nods, muscles spasming, but somehow settling as he focuses on Fishlegs. Toothless is still growling, but stands aside. “Do you know what Krogan gave you?” Fishlegs asks calmly.

Hiccup shakes his head.

“Did he give you something?”

Hiccup shakes his head “Nn-nuh,” he grunts out.

“What are you feeling?” Fishlegs asks instead. “Are you too hot?”

Hiccup nods, sobbing. His arms flail out.

“Where is it too hot?”

Hiccup whines, his arms flopping around. To Toothless, it looks like Hiccup flailed with purpose, but he has no idea what Hiccup could mean. Toothless is vibrating, not with energy, but with worry. Fishlegs takes a deep breath and Toothless notices that Fishlegs’ hands are shaking. “Yes or no questions,” he mutters to himself, taking a couple of deep breaths, then speaks clearly again for Hiccup, without a trace of his nerves. “Is it your muscles?”

Hiccup shakes his head.

“Your skin?”

Hiccup shakes his head.

Fishlegs’ eyes go wide. “Your blood?” His voice cracks on the last word.

Hiccup cries out, nodding. “Make it stop!” he sobs. “Please make it stop!”

Fishlegs turns to Meatlug. “Get Snotlout. Tell him to bring me my pestle, the Triple Stryke venom labeled with three flames on it, some mint, fresh water, and the sage fruit.” Meatlug nods and scrambles off without another word. Fishlegs turns to Toothless, his face serious. “I know you’re scared, but you need to let Snotlout in. He has what Hiccup needs and I can’t do this alone.”

Toothless grumbles, not liking the idea of another person being so close to Hiccup when he’s hurting like this, but Fishlegs is the healer. He knows what Hiccup will need, and Toothless shouldn’t argue with him, despite what his instincts are screaming at him. 

Toothless jumps when he feels a too-hot hand on his neck. Hiccup is looking at him, eyes glassy but focused and breathing way too hard. “Please, bud,” he pants, patting Toothless once before his muscles spasm again.

Toothless whines and concedes. Hiccup trusts them; he should trust them too. He leans down and nuzzles Hiccup’s neck, still freaked out that Hiccup is so hot to the touch. Humans aren’t supposed to burn this hot.

There’s a ruckus outside and Snotlout stumbles inside. His mouth is open, like he has something smart to say, but he spots Hiccup and his mouth snaps shut. He rushes towards Fishlegs, holding a small crate with everything Fishlegs asked for. “What can I do?” he asks, handing the supplies to Fishlegs.

“I need to create the anti-venom for the Triple Stryke venom that Hiccup somehow has been poisoned with,” Fishlegs tells Snotlout, his attention focused on pulling the supplies out of the crate. He puts some of the plant stuff into a bowl and starts mashing the herbs into a paste. Fishlegs is still focused on what he’s mixing, but his instructions are directed to Snotlout. “I need you to talk to Hiccup. Keep him talking about anything.” He looks straight at Snotlout, twisting something in the bowl that’s mashing everything together. “And I’ll need you to hold him down, so I can give him the anti-venom.”

Snotlout’s face goes pale. “What?” He turns wide, fear-filled eyes to Hiccup. “Why would I have to hold him down?!” Toothless growls at them.

“The anti-venom calls for some of the original venom,” Fishlegs explains, ignoring Toothless, which Toothless finds only slightly offensive. “The body’s natural reaction is to reject it. We have to hold him down until it starts to take effect.”

Toothless growls at Fishlegs, baring his teeth. Hold Hiccup down? Is he mad?

“Oh gods!” Hiccup screams, kicking and flailing. “Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!”

“Talk to him!” Fishlegs snaps, his movements quickening.

Snotlout jumps, shakes himself out of whatever state he was in and kneels next to Hiccup. He sits there uncomfortably for a moment before trying to put a gentle hand on Hiccup’s forehead. He pulls away like the touch has burned him. Toothless whines. “It’s like he’s on fire!” Snotlout says in surprise, suspiciously pale.

“He is!” Fishlegs yells, panic starting to filter into his demeanor. ‘Hold him down! The venom is cooking him from the inside and all the movement is making it worse!”

Snotlout does as he’s told without hesitation, and gives Toothless an apologetic glance when Toothless growls in warning at him. He holds down Hiccup’s arms, pinning them to the floor on either side of his head. They twitch and flinch under the hold, but he’s not flailing anymore. “Hey, Hiccup. Hey,” Snotlout says, voice shaky. He’s leaning over Hiccup, trying to look into his eyes, but Hiccup’s eyes are unfocused. “Hey, Hiccup,” Snotlout continues, like he has Hiccup’s attention. “You’re going to be okay. Come on, Fishlegs is the best, but you’re scaring him. Talk to me. Tell me anything.”

“Make it stop, make it stop,” Hiccup whimpers, tears falling from the corners of his eyes.

Snotlout takes a shaky breath. “Okay, that’s my bad. Not anything. Any new projects?”

“It hurts,” Hiccup whispers. His legs kick out, the prosthetic slamming into the wooden floor with a loud bang. Toothless settles his tail over the flailing limbs, pinning them down.

“You don’t have any new projects?” Snotlout asks, chuckling weakly. “I find that hard to believe. Is nothing new, any improvements?”

“It hurts, it hurts, it hurts,” Hiccup mumbles, limbs losing their fight.

Toothless makes a sound of distress. Hiccup stopping can’t be good. And Snotlout seems to agree, his voice rising in pitch. “Come on, Hiccup! Giving you a free pass to be as nerdy as you want! I won’t understand but I won’t call you a nerd either!” 

Hiccup’s breathing starts to slow, his eyes fluttering. Snotlout cries out. Toothless looks to Fishlegs, who is focused intently on his mixture. “Hiccup! Don’t you fucking die! I'm  _ not _ telling Stoick!” Toothless doesn’t have to look at Snotlout to know what his face looks like.

Fishlegs is shaking some vial in his hand. Toothless didn’t even notice that he finished with the bowl and the masher thing. Fishlegs is shaking the vial vigorously, the pale, green-grey solution bubbling from being shaken so much. He falls next to Hiccup and gives Toothless a hard look. “Keep his legs down. He’s going to kick really hard.”

Toothless doesn’t believe him. Hiccup is almost completely limp, his muscles barely moving now, but he puts more weight on his tail. What does he know about human health anyway? 

Fishlegs looks at Snotlout. “You too. Hold on until I tell you to stop.” Snotlout puts more weight onto Hiccup’s arms and Hiccup twitches in pain.

“Make it stop. Make it stop.”

Fishlegs pries open Hiccup’s mouth and dumps the entire vial down his throat. Toothless wants to protest at the harsh treatment, but Fishlegs drops the vial and it clatters to the floor and he clamps one large hand over Hiccup’s mouth while the other massages his throat. 

Toothless has a moment to worry that Fishlegs is stopping Hiccup from breathing when Hiccup flinches. Hard. Almost enough to dislodge Toothless and Snotlout. Toothless can see Snotlout scrambling to pin Hiccup’s arms properly 

Hiccup screams and cries, tears falling down his face as they hold him down. Toothless watches every cry and spasm with growing distress, each moment between breaths like a stake through his heart. Fishlegs hushes Hiccup, whispering something to him, but Toothless can’t hear. All he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears. He can’t believe he was party to hurting Hiccup so much, or that Fishlegs would do so as well.

Hiccup continues to fight, but his movements are becoming weaker. Toothless cries out, scared that the terror they forced Hiccup through was for naught. Hiccup sobs and blinks slowly. His eyes aren’t as glassy anymore.“Fishlegs?” Snotlout asks, voice wavering. Toothless stares, heart in his throat. Hiccup blinks, only blinks. Is he okay? What’s happening?

Slowly Hiccup’s movements turn to twitches and then he melts against the floor. Toothless whines, distressed. What’s happening? Have they lost him? Hiccup not moving  this time feels different than before, but Toothless can’t shake the fear that Hiccup is gone. What is he going to do without Hiccup? A noise of grief cracks from his throat and he’s frozen, afraid to listen too closely for the sound of Hiccup’s breathing. He can’t believe Hiccup is… he can’t...

“There you go,” Fishlegs whispers, a gentle smile on his face. 

Toothless blinks. What? He doesn’t understand. 

Fishlegs is still resting one large hand over Hiccup’s throat, his other hand still over Hiccup’s mouth. “Swallow, please.” Toothless hears the sound, but he can’t see Hiccup’s throat move. Toothless holds his breath. “Good. Good. Again.” He hears the sound again. “Does it hurt?” Hiccup shakes his head. “Are you feeling better? Is it working?”

Hiccup nods. Fishlegs removes his hands and Hiccup sighs heavily, chest rising and falling, and Toothless releases the breath he was holding, a human-like choking sound escaping his throat. Snotlout sighs and releases Hiccup’s arms. Toothless nuzzles Hiccup’s face and cries out in relief when Hiccup isn’t hot to the touch anymore. Hiccup sighs and nuzzles back as much as he can and it takes all of Toothless’ willpower not to wrap Hiccup in his wings and hide him from everything in the world. 

Hiccup’s eyes close. “Sorry, Hiccup. Can’t sleep yet,” Fishlegs says, gently shaking his shoulder. “I have some questions I need you to answer before I can let you rest.”

Toothless growls. Hiccup nearly died! They should let him rest. “Don’t be like that,” Hiccup whispers and nods to Fishlegs. Toothless grumbles. Idiot should rest.

“How did you get poisoned with the Triple Stryke venom?”

Hiccup sighs and tries to raise his left hand. It takes a bit of effort, but he’s able to hold it out to Fishlegs. “My hand… I think…”

Fishlegs grabs onto the hand presented to him, carefully navigating bloodied fingertips. Toothless looks as well and he can see small bits of glass embedded in the skin. Toothless lets out a confused croon. There’s no way that that tiny amount of glass could cause so much damage.

“Krogan,” Hiccup sighs, “had vials of stuff. They broke on the ground and I cut my hand on the glass trying to get out…” He takes a deep breath. “Some of the venom must have gotten into the cuts…”

Toothless whines in horror. He’s the one who broke the vials when he got into the hut. He’s the one who caused all this suffering? 

Toothless jumps when he feels someone scratching his chin. It’s Hiccup. “Don’t blame yourself, bud. You got me out of there…” He slumps, his arm going limp. Fishlegs lowers it carefully to his side. “I'm so tired… can I sleep?”

“Not yet,” says Fishlegs. Toothless growls. Fishlegs ignores Toothless. How rude. “Did he give you anything slower-acting?”

Hiccup shakes his head, eyes closed. “No… he only used tools.”

Fishlegs swallows, but that’s the only indication that Hiccup’s words have affected him. Snotlout, on the other hand, pales noticeably. That’s also when Toothless realizes that Snotlout is still here. “Just a little more, then you can rest,” Fishlegs promises.

Hiccup nods. “Okay.” He forces his eyes open a bit. He looks unfocused, but like he really needs to take a nap instead of any indication of deathly disease.

“I see marks all over your chest and your fingernails appear to be missing on your left hand. Is there anywhere else that he hurt?”

“My jaw…” Hiccup says, leaning his head to the side, showing off a bruised jaw line. There are dark bruises around puncture wounds. “And my right arm. He stabbed me. I don’t know where… and I think I'm missing a nail there too… my knee... everything hurts.” He closes his eyes again.

Fishlegs makes a sound of distress. “What did he want?” Snotlout asks, finally cutting in, but keeping his distance.

Hiccup takes a deep breath, almost completely asleep. Toothless is almost sure that Snotlout’s question will go unanswered, but Hiccup slurs, “Dragon… Eye… lenses.” And he falls asleep.

Toothless coos and nuzzles the side of Hiccup’s face. His rider’s breathing is even, and his scent is back to normal. Well. Mostly normal, underneath the stink of blood, old fear, and fever sweat. Toothless licks the side of Hiccup’s face, needing to get rid of all the smells of sickness on his skin.

“Krogan did this,” Snotlout growls slowly, “to get information about the Dragon Eye lenses.” Toothless looks up and sees Fishlegs watching Snotlout with a worried expression on his face. Snotlout looks murderous.

“Go tell Astrid,” Fishlegs tells him. Snotlout glares at him. “She needs to warn our allies.”

“What about Hiccup?” Snotlout asks.

Toothless inches closer to his rider, until his side is pressed into Hiccup’s. He won’t cover Hiccup with his wing yet. Fishlegs is probably going to want to clean the wounds. And he can already hear Fish-Healer chastising Toothless that dragon spit is not a good enough cleaner. Toothless respectfully disagrees, but he does tend to defer to Fishlegs for human ailments. 

Fishlegs sighs. “He needs to rest. Other than cleaning his wounds, which I can do by myself, there’s not much that you can do. You can come back later to help, but Astrid is the de facto leader now. She needs to know how Hiccup was injured and why so she can warn our allies.” He stops and look at Hiccup, face soft. “Besides, Hiccup would want us to warn our allies.”

Snotlout sniffs and looks at the floor. Toothless wonders if he’s crying. “Is there anything else I can bring when I come back?” Snotlout asks the floorboards.

Fishlegs smiles. “Some more bandages and some fresh water? And probably some broth, for when he wakes up? I doubt his stomach will be ready for anything too heavy, but he needs to be fed.”

Toothless watches the exchange, a little confused. It feels like something has changed between those two, but at this moment, Toothless can’t bring himself to care beyond simple observation. Snotlout will be permitted back inside, but only if he brings what Fishlegs has asked of him. Snotlout nods and hustles out of the hut.

Fishlegs looks at Toothless now, much calmer and more relaxed. “Let’s get Hiccup into bed.” 

Toothless stands and hisses in pain, the metal from the mechanism poking into his burnt side. He looks down at himself and sees a large welt under some bent metal. The point of the bend is right in the center of the welt, which is where the fireball’s heat was the hottest. Fishlegs must see it too, because he gasps. Toothless fixes Fishlegs with a glare before he can say anything.

Fishlegs pauses, mouth open. Then he sighs in defeat. “We’ll get Hiccup into bed, and then have a look at that. And get that stuff off you.”

Toothless shakes his head.  **“** _ Hiccup first _ ,” he growls in Dragonese, finally calm enough to communicate.

Fishlegs gives a soft smile. “Of course. Hiccup first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> full disclosure, I am not a doctor, or have done much research on doctoring, so please forgive if i've done anything too horrible! 
> 
> Comments, again, are always welcome! Same with kudos! Hope y'all are liking this!


	5. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiccup wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... heyyyyyyyyyyyyy how are you guys doing! At least I didn't leave you hanging with the torture lol *nervous* 
> 
> But i'm really excited... this is getting done! Only one more chapter after this! How wild is that! I'm hoping to get this one done very soon then start working on my other stuff with more focus! Thank you so much for being here and hopefully you're looking forward to what happens!

Hiccup wakes up slowly, feeling heavy and empty all at once. He’s aware that he’s hurt, but it’s almost secondary? He doesn’t understand. All he can feel is himself breathing, each rise and fall of his chest registering with startling clarity.

Slowly, other sensations start to register. Bandages on his arms and hands and over his chest. A light blanket laid over him, tucked in gently around his sides. No shirt, but pants. His prosthetic is off. He opens his eyes, surprised at how long it takes to get them all the way open. Why does he feel so relaxed? If some enemy has taken his peg leg, he’s really in trouble.

There’s a little bit of light and it’s too bright. He closes his eyes again.

More sensations filter in. His arms are tired, his knee hurts, and his stomach is queasy. He’s a little clammy and he might smell a bit. He turns his head a bit and bandages pull on his jaw. Oh yeah. That’s hurting too.

His eyes slit open and he’s face to face with bright green eyes. Toothless chirps and makes his own little sound that he has for Hiccup. The other dragons chuckle whenever they hear Toothless use it, but they refuse to tell Hiccup what it means. Right now, Hiccup doesn’t care. “Hey, bud,” he whispers.

“Hiccup!” someone yells and Hiccup flinches at the noise. Fishlegs’ face pops up over Toothless’ head. He looks relieved, a bright smile on his face and bags under his eyes.

Toothless growls, eyes narrowing. “Don’t be like that, bud,” Hiccup smiles, reaching up and scratching under Toothless’ chin as best he can with his right hand. “He’s just worried.”

Toothless warbles petulantly. Hiccup smiles and rises up to kiss the tip of his nose. That appears to placate him and he shuffles to the side to allow Fishlegs to see Hiccup better. Fishlegs steps into the open space with a grateful smile. “Hey Hiccup, how are you feeling?” he asks, placing a hand on Hiccup’s forehead.

“Very tired,” he admits, half-closing his eyes under the nice feeling of Fishlegs’ warm palm on his forehead. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Two days,” Fishlegs tells him, moving his hand to Hiccup’s cheek and feeling around his eyes carefully. “You gave us quite a scare, but I think we’ve managed to bandage the worst of the wounds. Now that you’re awake, I can treat you better.”

“Two days?” Hiccup asks in disbelief. “Why does it feel like I could sleep two more?”

“I think it was the Triple Stryke venom. It was the kind that boiled your blood. I think we were pretty close to losing you.”

Toothless makes a distressed noise and knocks Fishlegs away, laying his head over Hiccup’s torso carefully and cuddling close. Hiccup sighs and rubs his hands over Toothless’ head, hoping to soothe his friend, but he has to stop with his left hand when it starts to hurt too much. “How much was I exposed to?” Hiccup asks.

Fishlegs shrugs. “I'm not too sure, but from what you’ve told me, it was a very small amount. I don’t know if Krogan distilled the poison, or if Triple Stryke venom is really potent.”

“I’d bet that the Triple Stryke is that dangerous,” Hiccup says. “Krogan doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing.”

“He battered you up pretty good.”

Hiccup smiles and sighs. “Hello, Snotlout.” Toothless growls.

“I'm not gonna let you turn this into something less than it really is,” Snotlout snaps, glaring daggers at him. Toothless turns, growling, presumably to glare at Snotlout. Hiccup watches his cousin’s face. His words sound angry, but his face looks desperate. “Krogan managed to separate you from us, too far away for anyone to know. And by the time we knew you were gone… well if it wasn’t for Toothless, you’d probably be dead.”

Toothless sounds like he’s caught somewhere between preening and growling. Hiccup shrugs and scratches the back of Toothless’ head, using his right hand, his left hand still throbbing from too much movement. “It sounds bad when you say it like that…”

“How else could you say it?” Snotlout challenges.

Hiccup squirms. “It wasn’t that bad…”

Snotlout stomps up to the bed, flames practically coming out of his ears. Toothless, surprisingly, shuffles to the side so Snotlout can get closer. Fishlegs doesn’t move, holding his hands up to Snotlout. “Snotlout, calm down,” Fishlegs says calmly.

“No,” Snotlout snaps, “I won’t stay calm. Hiccup is being an idiot again and you’re too nice to say anything and Toothless is just too happy to do anything. He needs to understand how much danger he was in!” He snaps his attention to Hiccup. “You could have DIED, Hiccup! That is  _ not _ an exaggeration. You almost  _ died _ here, in this hut. You say that Krogan had two vials? He would have used them on you and we wouldn’t have been there to force the anti-venom down your throat. I doubt Krogan cares enough to make sure you don’t throw up on him.”

“Snotlout…” Hiccup tries.

“No. Listen,” Snotlout cuts him off, stepping around Fishlegs and getting nice and close. “What if this happened to me? Or to Astrid? Or Mala? Or Dagur? Or any of our allies, any of our friends? Would you sit there and be like ‘oh, Krogan is a moron’? NO! You’d be coming up with a strategy to deal with him because Krogan is  _ dangerous!” _

Snotlout is breathing heavily by the time he’s through. Fishlegs puts a comforting hand on his elbow, which he shakes off. He inhales once, sharp, and makes sure to stare Hiccup in the eyes. Hiccup feels pinned. “You. Are. Important to us, Hiccup. As more than a leader. No one stayed behind when we went looking for you, and I know one of us should have, but no one would.”

Hiccup forces himself to look down, his eyes fixed on the bedspread. “Would have done the same for anyone else on the team,” he argues.

Snotlout is in his face in the next moment, close enough that Hiccup startles and jerks back as far as he can go. Snotlout looks so angry. “That includes you, you big dummy.” He straightens up and stalks towards the door. “I can’t stay here and argue with him! My last resort is beating some sense into his head, and I know that’s not what he needs!”

He slams the door behind him. Everyone flinches. Hiccup looks at Fishlegs, hoping for some sort of explanation for what he missed. “He was really worried about you,” Fishlegs explains. That doesn’t make any sense, yet it does?

Hiccup swallows, throat tight. “You think he’d be trying to take over,” he says weakly.

Fishlegs looks almost disappointed. “Do you really believe that?”

Hiccup looks down at the covers. “No. I just… you know how I am about the attention…”

“Well, you almost died, you’re bound to be the center of attention for a while.” 

Hiccup looks up, feeling very small. Fishlegs is sitting on a stool by his side, Toothless next to him, resting his head on Hiccup’s bed. “You can’t tell them that their worries are unfounded, because they’re not. We really had no idea what happened to you until Toothless brought you back. And you’ve been out much longer than I expected.”

“How has everyone else been?” Hiccup asks, guilt swelling in his chest. Toothless moves from the end of his bed to snuggle his head under Hiccup’s left arm. Hiccup scratches under Toothless’ chin with his right hand as best he can.

Fishlegs smiles weakly. “Snotlout has been worried sick. He’s been helping me with your bandages and watching for signs of more poison. I can’t be entirely sure that we got rid of all of it, but I'm pretty certain now. Astrid has taken over correspondence with our allies and running the Edge. Toothless has kept everyone but me and Snotlout out of your hut. Not even another dragon was allowed to come near you.” Hiccup glances down at Toothless, who is pointedly avoiding eye contact. “But that hasn’t stopped the twins from trying. Astrid has been trying to keep them busy, but it’s hard.” Hiccup swallows. “From what I can tell, our allies are worried. They keep on asking about you and Mala keeps on offering to send a healer. Same with Dagur and Heather.”

Hiccup can feel his shoulders hunching up by his ears. “All that worry? For me?”

Fishlegs glares. “Yes. All that worry for you. Believe it or not, Hiccup, you’re a great leader and no one can take your place.”

Hiccup flushes, pleased, but he still feels guilty. He hates that he made everyone worry so much. “Our allies, they’ve been warned?”

Fishlegs nods. “Yes. And Astrid has implemented rules around here to prevent the same thing from happening: no solo flying, no further than the sea stacks, anything further needs a team of at least two dragons. Anything out of distress signal range requires three dragons.”

“We can’t shut down all operations out of fear, that’ll just bring them here,” Hiccup argues.

“Is that so?” Fishlegs hums. “Well, you can take that up with Astrid in a couple days, after you’ve recovered from your poisoning.”

“I feel,” Hiccup yawns, “fine.”

Toothless chuckles. Hiccup whaps him on the head lightly, barely even brushing his fingers over Toothless’ forehead. Toothless purrs, the vibrations rumbling through Hiccup’s stomach, and he realizes just how tired he is. He yawns again. “Sleep, Hiccup. You need some more rest,” says Fishlegs.

Hiccup shakes his head, even though his eyes are already closed. “’m not tired.”

Fishlegs snorts. “Sure.”

Hiccup’s not tired. He’s not! He’s… he can feel himself starting to snore.

...Okay. Maybe he is a little tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! comments and kudos please, and again sorry for the long break between chapters. And i am in the midst of editing the next chapter, so hopefully that will be ready soon! 
> 
> thank you so much for sticking with me!


	6. Epilogue: A Burden Shared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiccup discovers he's not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay! this has been kicking around for a bit, but now it's finally done! and also this chapter would not have been possible without sarahenany! Literally! this whole thing was her idea that she graciously allowed me to use! 
> 
> no major warnings for this chapter, i think... I am updating the tags tho (mostly to include other characters)

A month later, Hiccup visits Berk. He’s put off this meeting for as long as he could manage, but it takes so long for fingernails to grow back. So far, the nails are starting to peek out at the base and it doesn’t hurt too much to use his injured hand, but it still twinges whenever Hiccup forgets that there’s open skin where nail used to be. It’s frustrating when he’s inventing stuff, because he always forgets. He can’t wait to be back to normal. 

Stoick requested this meeting a week after Astrid took over the Edge, which gave Hiccup time to recover from what happened. The Riders assured Hiccup that they kept his condition under wraps, only told people that Hiccup had been attacked and needed time before he met with anyone. Hiccup thinks “attack” is still too strong a word, and his concerns about it have been noted, but that hasn’t stopped the riders from addressing the incident as such. 

Hiccup has put off this meeting because he doesn’t want Stoick to know what happened to him. He already knows too much and probably thinks it’s so much worse than it actually was. He doesn’t want a lecture. He doesn’t want his dad to look at him and see Hiccup the Useless again. Stoick will never trust him again if he knows the whole truth about him being “captured” and “tortured” by one of their biggest enemies. Hiccup already knows better, but Stoick is really going to lay into him. 

His hands are easy enough to hide underneath bandages (easily explained away as Fishlegs being a little overcautious with those injuries), and the cut in his forearm is hidden beneath his sleeve, the only indication it’s there at all is a subtle difference in size between arms and Hiccup doesn’t stop moving long enough for people to notice that anyway, but the injury to his jaw is still visible. The bruise has faded (which made it look so much worse than it actually was) but the puncture wounds from the brush are still visible, pale red on his skin. Arguably, scarred. But a scar means something so much worse than a small wound. A scar is something you earn in battle, not from a sucker punch from the enemy. 

Hiccup fiddles with the bandages with his good fingers, frowning at them like they tracked dragon dung into the house. He had debated on wearing gloves, but he would have stuck out, as Snotlout likes to say recently, “like a sore thumb!”

Snotlout’s gotten a lot of mileage out of that joke. So have the twins, but Snotlout more than them. He can’t begrudge his cousin that though. He feels bad for worrying Snotlout so much. A couple of jibes are nothing compared to the scare he gave his teammates.

He frowns harder and tugs at the bandage a little too roughly. The frown is replaced by panic. He got a long lecture from Fishlegs to  _ leave the bandages alone _ and they are already not as tight as when Fishlegs wrapped them. He curses and tucks the end away. It’ll stay in place at least, but he’ll have to ask Fishlegs to rewrap his hands. Guilt floods through him. Fishlegs worked hard on this, even if Hiccup thinks it’s a waste of time. 

He tries to set them better, but Gobber’s voice stops him cold. “Stop fiddling with those,” he grumbles, taking a seat across from him. Hiccup tucks it hastily and puts his hands to his lap, looking down. He knows his dad isn’t far behind.

Stoick has asked for a private meeting, all formal-like, and it’s set Hiccup on edge since they landed on Berk. He doesn’t know why Stoick had to be so formal about it, but everyone took it seriously, so Toothless isn’t even here to run interference (not like that treacherous reptile  _ would) _ . He sloped off with Snotlout and Hookfang, to do something dragon-related? Hiccup isn’t sure.

And it’s not like Snotlout would have been much help if he were here either. He’s been going on about being open with Berk about what’s happening. Hiccup swears it’s Fishlegs’ influence and what a time for Fishlegs to finally break through to Snotlout.

“So explain to me again what happened,” Stoick orders. Hiccup blinks, focusing on Stoick and Gobber in front of him. They’re sitting across the table from him, serious and solemn. It reminds HIccup of all those times he was in trouble when he was younger.

Hiccup’s shoulders rise to his ears. “I told you already,” Hiccup mumbles, still not looking up and trying to keep his hands as still as he can manage. Sure, they’re mostly healed but they still hurt when he moves them sometimes. 

“So…” Stoick trails off, like he’s giving Hiccup a chance to come clean, but he can’t bring himself to even speak. “... you… fell off Toothless, for starters...” Hiccup nods. “...into some thorns…” Hiccup nods again, trying to resist the urge to shrink away. “...and… on that same day, you hurt your hand in a smelting accident?” 

Hiccup nods again, licking his lips and shrinking into himself. He can feel them both looking at him and it makes him uncomfortable. It’s like they can see right through him. 

“You really expect me to believe that?” Stoick asks after letting Hiccup sweat for a few moments. 

“Yeah, Dad,” Hiccup chuckles weakly. “Don’t you remember calling me accident-prone? I just had a clumsy day.” 

He chances a look up and they both look unconvinced. “If I recall,” Gobber says, “ _ I _ used to call you accident-prone.  _ Stoick  _ called you a menace.” 

Hiccup’s stomach drops and Stoick glares at Gobber. “Thank you for that, Gobber,” Stoick growls. 

“Don’t mention it, Stoick!” Gobber chirps, sitting up straighter with a smile on his face.  

Hiccup almost smiles, but his stomach feels too heavy. Eventually, Stoick sighs and gives Hiccup his full attention. “What  _ really _ happened to you, Hiccup?”

Indignation flares in Hiccup’s chest and he glares at his dad. “I told you! Accidents happen! I fell off Toothless and I burned my hand!” 

“You’re a shit liar, Hiccup,” Stoick growls. 

Now, Hiccup is offended. Sure it’s true, but he’s still offended. He stands suddenly, slapping his hands on the table and regretting it immediately. He cries out at the impact and falls back into the chair, cradling his bandaged hands to his chest. “I told you,” Hiccup repeats weakly, “I fell off Toothless and hurt my hand smelting.” 

Stoick looks on the edge of standing in the same fashion that Hiccup tried, but he looks like he’s holding himself back.  “Don’t lie to me, Hiccup,” he grinds out through his teeth. 

Hiccup hates that this is his relationship with his dad. Stoick is so disappointed in him. He can’t even have a talk with him without it resorting to some sort of yelling on either of their parts. “If your hands are still giving you that much trouble,” Gobber cuts in like he used to do when Hiccup was still a useless kid, “maybe we should have Gothi have a look at them? I know that if burns on the hands heal wrong, it can be pretty bad.” He demonstrates this by holding out his scarred, flesh hand. Some of the fingers don’t fully extend. 

“It’s not a burn,” Hiccup says before he can think, like he’s trying to reassure them. He clamps his right hand over his mouth, eyes wide. How could he be so dumb?

“What other injury can you get from smelting?” Stoick asks, sounding near the end of his rope.

Hiccup racks his brain for a moment. “Gobber, Gobber would know. Ask Gobber. Wouldn’t you know, Gobber?” Hiccup asks in a rush, then adds in attempt at levity, “C’mon. Don’t be shy.” 

Gobber looks amused, but  _ at  _ Hiccup, rather than  _ with  _ him. “I must admit, Stoick, the Hiccup I knew would have spilled his guts in a few minutes. Being out on the Edge has helped a bit, but you need more training with those twins, kiddo.” 

Hiccup glares at Gobber, earning a wide smile from the blacksmith. “Out with it, son,” Stoick orders, voice brooking no room for argument. 

Hiccup looks down at the table again, this time his hands right out front. He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s playing with the bandages again. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, tears stinging his eyes. “I can’t…” He takes a deep breath, swallowing down his need to cry. “I can’t tell you, Dad.” He finishes his statement in a whisper. 

Snotlout barges in the house, making everyone jump. “ _ Can’t _ tell him?” Snotlout echoes, glaring daggers at Hiccup. He turns to Stoick momentarily. “The men at the docks say that the new shipment of willowbark has arrived.” He turns back to Hiccup. “ _ Can’t _ tell him?” 

“My… smelting accident,” Hiccup mutters, holding his hands out. “You’ll tell them all about it, right?” 

Snotlout’s glare deepens somehow. “I’d call you a chicken, but that would be an insult to Chicken. Where’s Toothless? Why isn’t he here knocking some sense into you?” 

Hiccup frowns. “He told me he was with you.”

“And you believed him?” 

Hiccup’s frown turns to a glare. “I don’t see why it’s so far-fetched, you guys have been bosom buddies since this whole incident! Ganging up on me and everything.” 

“He probably trusted that you would tell Stoick without his help,” Snotlout snaps. That kind of hurts, but probably isn’t uncalled for.

“Who’s hungry?” Hiccup asks, turning a too-fake smile to Gobber and Stoick. “I know I could eat a whole yak. We could go down to the Great Hall--”

“Krogan tortured Hiccup.”

Any ability to speak leaves Hiccup in that moment. His mouth hangs open and he’s filled with betrayal. He can’t look away from his dad and Gobber. Stoick reels back, like he’s been hit, and Gobber’s shoulders hunch, his face twisting in pain. Somehow Hiccup turns to face Snotlout. Snotlout doesn’t look smug or proud, but uncomfortable. He crosses his arms over his chest and continues, “He lured Hiccup and Toothless away from the Edge and shot them down. Krogan wanted to know where we were keeping the Dragon Eye lenses.” 

“Snotlout…” Hiccup chokes out, voice cracking. 

Snotlout glares at Hiccup, shoulders hunching slightly. “Krogan is dangerous, Hiccup,” he shoots back defensively. “We warned all our allies, including Berk. What? Berk’s an enemy now?” 

“They  _ know _ Krogan is dangerous!” Hiccup hisses, desperate. Mortified. How dare Snotlout say this stuff. Their allies didn’t need to know the details of Hiccup’s failure. Is this what everyone knows? Who’s going to trust Hiccup anymore if he can’t protect himself? “You didn’t have to tell them  _ everything _ ,” he continues, broken.“Is that what you’ve told the other allies?”

“Lad…” Gobber tries.

But Snotlout speaks over him. “Yes, that’s exactly what we told everyone. To warn everyone how to prevent themselves from being targeted by Krogan! I didn’t tell them  _ everything _ , but I fucking could if you don’t say anything!” 

“There’s more?” Hiccup can hear Stoick whisper in horror. 

Hiccup stands up, looming over Snotlout now, glaring at him. “You shut your mouth, Snotlout. Don’t say another damn word or I’m going to kick you off the Riders.” Hiccup doesn’t mean it, but maybe it’ll keep Snotlout quiet. 

Although it backfires when Hiccup sees the broken look in Snotlout’s eyes. “Don’t make me call your bluff,” Snotlout whispers. 

Something shatters inside Hiccup. “It wouldn’t…” Hiccup chokes out, tears falling down his face. Snotlout’s face softens. “It wouldn’t have… I wouldn’t have been captured if…if I was… if I was...” His words are lost in a sob. Hiccup covers his eyes with one arm, because he can’t push his hands onto his face like he’d like. It would only hurt him. And be another fucking reminder about how badly he’s failed. 

He collapses into the chair and buries his face in his arms, sobbing. Why is he like this? Astrid wouldn’t have cried like this. Snotlout wouldn’t’ve. The twins wouldn’t’ve! None of the other riders! Just Hiccup! Just his stupid ass. 

“Hiccup?” Stoick asks, a large hand landing on Hiccup’s shoulder. Hiccup flinches under the touch and the hand withdraws. “Were you going to say that if you were like me, you wouldn’t have been caught?” He asks it barely above a whisper, but he has to be loud enough to be heard over Hiccup’s crying. There’s no way the others didn’t hear the question.

Hiccup sniffles and nods. He catches his breath enough to tilt his face to the side. “Everyone’s already thinking it anyway,” he hiccoughs. “I tried so hard, Dad. And I still fucked up.” He buries his face again, but still mumbles out, “I’m sorry.” He’s not sure if anyone can hear it, but he says it. He doesn’t mean to be such a burden. 

For a while (too long), the only sound is Hiccup’s crying. Each sob is another layer of humiliation. Why can’t he stop crying? Then he hears Stoick. “Gobber, get my laces.”

It’s odd enough that Hiccup’s tears stop and he looks up. Gobber is already standing and reaching for the back of Stoick’s neck, where his tunic laces up. Hiccup finds it odd that his dad asked Gobber to get it. He ties those laces on his own every day. At least, Hiccup assumes so. For all the things he’s helped his dad with growing up, tying his laces has never been one of them. 

Gobber’s hand stops just shy of the laces. “Are you sure, Stoick?” 

“Might as well,” Stoick grunts, looking at the floor. “He’s not a babe anymore. He should know.” 

Hiccup shares a look with Snotlout. He doesn’t look like he knows what’s going on either. When he looks back, Stoick is also looking at Snotlout, like he’s trying to decide something. Snotlout doesn’t leave, as far as Hiccup can tell. 

Stoick pulls his hair forward over one shoulder and Gobber unties the lace at the nape of Stoick’s neck. Hiccup can tell the moment it’s undone because the shirt loses some of its tension on Stoick’s shoulders. Stoick takes a deep breath and turns his back to Hiccup, shrugging the material of his tunic down, exposing his shoulder blades to the middle of his back. 

Hiccup might throw up when he sees what’s there. Snotlout gasps. Etched into Stoick’s back, spanning both shoulder blades well into the middle of his back, is the Renegades’ tribal crest. 

Hiccup’s eyes run over the lines. It’s a raised, lumpy mess, puckered but clearly drawn. Decades-old red and purple scars wind their way over pale skin. They seem to writhe like snakes, protruding, round, and almost scaly in texture. He seems to have been staring forever when the scar is suddenly covered by red hair. Most of the scar tissue is covered by Stoick’s ponytail, but Hiccup can still see the edges of it. Stoick turns, keeping his eyes down. Hiccup watches him shrug the material back up. 

Hiccup looks at Snotlout, who is blushing and staring at the ground, like he’s just seen something he’s not supposed to see. Gobber’s face is grim and he’s watching Hiccup closely. It’s almost… protective? Hiccup has never been on the receiving end of such a look. “It happened long before you were born,” Stoick says, breaking the tense silence. “The Renegade Rapscallions wanted to steal Berk’s gold. We took it off the isle, for safekeeping. I was one of the few who knew where.” He looks into Hiccup’s eyes and Hiccup couldn’t look away if he tried. He’s never seen Stoick look so open before. Hiccup doesn’t know how to handle it. “But I got overconfident. They captured me.” Stoick shrugs, breaking the eye contact first. “They thought they could get me to tell them where it was hidden.” 

Hiccup realizes his mouth is hanging open.  _ Stoick  _ was captured by an enemy tribe? “H-How?” Hiccup asks, swallowing hard. “I mean… I-I’ve seen you break chains… with your bare hands!” 

Gobber gives Hiccup a sad look. “Boys grow into men,” he says softly, “when they learn their parents aren’t invincible.” 

“How did you get out?” Snotlout breathes. Everyone looks at him. He slaps a hand over his mouth, like he’s spoken out of turn. 

Stoick and Gobber share a look and clear their throats. They seem to have a silent conversation. It really hits Hiccup then just how long Gobber and Stoick have been friends. Their friendship is something that Hiccup can’t even comprehend, the relationship obviously older than Hiccup himself. Gobber speaks up first, huffing, “Never go into a tricky situation without backup.” It’s half a joke, and lessens some of the tension in the room. 

Stoick grins, and it’s genuine. He takes his seat again, shrugging his tunic back into place when it shifts from the motion. “You two should see Gobber here when he gets really riled up,” he smiles at the boys. “I think a bunch of Rapscallions needed the outhouse, if you take my meaning.” 

“Soiled their skivvies,” Gobber stage-whispers, plopping into his seat beside Stoick. Hiccup giggles, unable to help himself. He’s starting to feel a little better. 

Stoick’s face gets serious, but pleading. Hiccup tenses at the change. “Hiccup, I don’t want you running away with the idea that I’m invincible. We’re men, not gods. Even the strongest of us can be captured.” He pauses. “Even the strongest of us can be hurt.”

Hiccup is a little speechless. He didn’t know that, well, objectively he did, but he only knew of men being hurt in great battles. “What could make those marks?” Snotlout asks, barely above a whisper, like he didn’t mean to say it out loud. Still, Hiccup shoots Snotlout a glare. Snotlout isn’t looking at him. 

Stoick looks distinctly uncomfortable. He rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. “It was such a long time ago…”

Gobber glares at him. “Now, now, Stoick. What did we say about settin’ a good example?” 

“We didn’t  _ say _ anything,” Stoick grumbles, looking at the table. Hiccup is reminded immediately of a child being scolded. He can’t think of another time Stoick has looked so contrite and he has to wonder what Gobber is made of. 

“Stoick…” Gobber warns.

“Fine, fine,” Stoick mumbles, shoulders hunching up again. 

They sit in silence for a bit. “Are you gonna tell them or should I?” Gobber asks after a moment.

Stoick glares at Gobber, cheeks pink. He clears his throat and fusses with one of the knots in his beard, making sure it lies in place before speaking. “They had a hot knife.” Both his hands jerk up and latch onto some of the free hair beneath the knot, twisting each strand around the other. The hands don’t look too steady. Gobber sets a hand on Stoick’s shoulder. 

Hiccup watches the interaction on the edge of his seat. He’s not entirely sure he’s not holding his breath, waiting for the rest of Stoick’s story. Stoick takes a deep breath and stops playing with his beard, putting both hands palm-down on the table. “They would ask me where the gold was, and,” he tries for a grin, but it falls a little flat, “when I told them to get stuffed--”

“Stoick!” Gobber chides. 

Stoick gives Gobber a glare. “They aren’t children anymore, Gobber,” he snaps.

Gobber gives him a meaningful look. “Exactly.” 

Stoick inhales through his nose, nodding, glare melting away. “When I told them to fuck off,” Stoick amends, “they’d get the knife red hot.” His next inhale is shaky. He flips his hands over and stares at the palms. “They’d show me it.” His hands clench into fists. “They’d ask me again.” Stoick’s fists are so tight, Hiccup can see his knuckles going white. “Then they’d cut.” 

“H--” Hiccup’s voice hitches, “how long?” 

“Too long,” Gobber replies, a little too sharp. 

“Felt like forever,” Stoick admits, taking some deep breaths, working on loosening his hands. 

Hiccup winces at the admission, feeling a surprising kinship with his father. Sure, Hiccup has always loved his dad, cared for him, but he’s never felt like their paths have ever overlapped in any way beyond shared blood. All his life, Hiccup has had trouble understanding Stoick, the stories that he’s told Hiccup, the lessons he’s tried to impart through his own experiences growing up. And he’s always felt like Stoick just doesn’t understand Hiccup’s own stories, his own struggles. But… this is the first time that Hiccup believes that they truly know each other’s story, can relate and empathize with each other’s pain. It’s an awful thing to have in common, but that commonality helps Hiccup feel better. 

“How’d you get out, Hiccup?” Gobber asks, careful. Light. He’s looking at Hiccup, but the hand on Stoick’s shoulder has gone to his elbow. 

“How else?” Hiccup tilts his head and offers a weak smile. “Toothless.” 

Stoick opens his mouth, but Snotlout’s voice cuts over him. “ _ ‘How else?’” _ Snotlout mocks. “Don’t talk like you can’t get out of shit without him--” Snotlout’s mouth snaps shut. Stoick is giving him a hard glare. Hiccup doesn’t smile.

“There’s no shame in being rescued, son,” Stoick says after the moment he takes to glare at his nephew. 

“Unless you make a habit of it,” Hiccup mutters, shrinking in his seat.

“You,” Snotlout goes on, “wouldn’t need rescuing if you didn’t rush in where angels fear to tread!” 

Hiccup gives Snotlout a livid glare. “What’s that even supposed to  _ mean? _ ” 

“Who knows?!” Snotlout yells, gesticulating wildly with his arms. “Tuffnut said that to me once!” 

“I...” Stoick cuts in, despondent. Any anger Hiccup was building up to use in an argument with Snotlout suddenly dissipates. Hiccup looks back at his father. Stoick is breathing deeply, staring at his hands, which are clasped tightly together now. “I was helpless.” 

Gobber grins weakly. “Now that’s something you don’t hear every day.” 

Stoick closes his eyes and sighs. “You’re not helping, Gobber.” 

“I know,” Gobber says. “I’m trying to keep you out of that place.”

Stoick snorts. “Don’t I hear Grump calling you?” 

Gobber’s smile is a little more relaxed this time. “Ah, don’t be like that, Stoick. I’m your favorite friend.” 

Some of the tension leaves Stoick’s shoulders and he opens his eyes, giving Hiccup a soft look. “I was helpless to save myself, Hiccup. If I didn’t have Gobber, or the other warriors, I wouldn’t be alive today. Being chief doesn’t mean you’re invincible.” Stoick doesn’t tense up as he speaks.

“He pulled out my fingernails.” Maybe it’s the way that Stoick finally seems okay that makes Hiccup say it. He can’t put his finger on why, but it falls out of his mouth before he can think to stop it. 

Gobber gives a cry of disbelief, eyes darting down to Hiccup’s hands. Stoick flinches like Hiccup hit him, but he composes himself quickly. He blinks a couple of times, eyes surprisingly wet. “Left hand?” he asks, careful, casual. It’s obvious. Hiccup’s entire left hand is covered in bandages and only one finger on his right hand is covered.

Hiccup nods, hands curling a bit, but not too far. “Did you scream?” he asks before he can think too much of his own injuries.

“Did he scream?” It’s Gobber who’s answering now. “Nearly caused an earthquake! It’s a wonder the whole island didn’t sink!”

Stoick is giving Gobber an exasperated glare, but he hasn’t tensed up. “Of course I screamed.” Stoick shifts uncomfortably, but his smile looks genuine. “What did you think I did? Think I’d stay silent while being cut and branded? What do you think I’m made of, son?”

“Gristle and old boots,” Gobber stage-whispers across the table to Hiccup. Hiccup giggles.

“I don’t recall asking you,” Stoick says, shoving Gobber in the shoulder. Gobber laughs and nearly falls off his chair. 

“Triple Stryke venom!” Snotlout bursts out. 

Hiccup turns a glare on his cousin. “What’s that?” Gobber asks, voice still light. 

Hiccup shakes his head, but Snotlout ignores him. “Hiccup was poisoned with Triple Stryke venom.” 

Hiccup turns back to Gobber and Stoick. “That was an accident! I swear!” He turns back to Snotlout and whispers harshly, “They didn’t need to know about that!” Then he looks back at his dad, trying for levity. “I mean, it was just a dumb mistake.”

“Krogan. Had.  _ Triple Stryke venom?!” _ Gobber asks, incredulous. Stoick looks like he’s seen a ghost. 

“Yeah,” Hiccup curls in on himself a bit, “but it’s not worth mentioning really. It didn’t even leave a scar.” 

Snotlout scoffs. “Yeah, like I believe that at all. You’re worse than Hookfang, I swear. And I thought  _ I  _ was the only one more stubborn than him. Where’s Toothless? He’d back me up on this. I know we don’t always see eye to eye on things, but he knows you’re crazy and foolhardy--” 

“What do you mean, Snotlout?” Stoick asks, cutting through Snotlout’s tirade.

“ _ Don’t  _ answer that!” Hiccup orders. 

Snotlout gives Hiccup a withering look and opens his mouth. “I mean that he’s short of breath, still recovering from the poison. He can’t even go half a mile without needing to rest. Or the days where you barely eat? How about that one?”

“That’s  _ enough, _ Snotlout,” Hiccup growls. 

Snotlout looks ready to argue some more, but Stoick’s voice cuts between them. “It’s not your fault that you were captured.” 

Those words take the wind out of Hiccup’s sails. Snotlout’s mouth snaps shut. Hiccup looks to his dad. “It wasn’t,” Stoick insists. “I’ve told Astrid this: when you’re a warrior, you blame yourself for everything. And blaming yourself for everything doesn’t help anyone.” 

“Takes some people a while to learn that lesson, though,” Gobber says pointedly. “I recall a certain young Hope and Heir,” he points to Stoick, “who thought he deserved his torture.” 

“If you’re finished, Gobber, I’m trying to talk to my son,” Stoick growls. 

“Yes, yes, of course,” Gobber says, holding his hands up in surrender. “Don’t let me interrupt your pearls of wisdom. Just make sure to practice what you preach.” 

“I made the same mistake that I worry that you’re making,” Stoick says to Hiccup, then gives a side glare to Gobber, “as Gobber here will never let me forget.” He looks back to Hiccup, sure to keep eye contact. “I spent a while believing that I got what I’d deserved, getting carved up by those Renegades. That all the suffering they caused me was somehow my fault.”

Hiccup swallows, hard, unable to disagree with those words. They sound eerily close to the mantra that’s been going through Hiccup’s head. 

“It’s no use blaming yourself, son. It feels useful, but it’s a waste of energy. And it can make you careless. It’s hard to get rid of that feeling. Harder to channel it into something sensible, like taking precautions. I’m willing to wager that Astrid put some safeguards in place?”

Hiccup’s eyes roll, and Snotlout’s mouth straightens into a satisfied line. They both nod. 

“Women warriors tend to be more sensible about that than men,” Stoick says seriously. “We do have a tendency to let our big egos get in the way.”

“I don’t have a big ego!” Snotlout argues, affronted. Hiccup almost laughs out loud but manages to keep the laugh behind his teeth. “I am  _ the  _ **_most_ ** modest Viking! One of my best traits is my modesty!” 

Hiccup can’t hold back the laugh, but he gives a soft look to Snotlout. Snotlout looks embarrassed at his outburst and looks away from Hiccup. Sure, he doesn’t have an ego. “Snotlout and Fishlegs took care of me,” Hiccup says, sitting up straight and looking at the other men. His chest feels lighter. “Fishlegs made the antidote in no time flat.” A proud smile plays on his lips. “You should have seen them.”

“Shut up, Hiccup,” Snotlout barks out, without heat. 

“What about the other Riders?” Gobber interjects curiously.

Hiccup grins.”Toothless was a bit… overprotective.” 

And, like that, saying his name is the cue for Toothless to come into the house. He moves silently, but Hiccup knows the moment he enters the same space. “Hey, bud,” Hiccup greets, turning and holding his arms open. Toothless dives in for a nuzzle.

“Didn’t hear the ruddy beast come in,” Gobber whispers to Stoick while Snotlout gags at the display. 

“It sounds like Fishlegs knows what he’s doing out there,” Stoick says, drawing everyone’s attention, “but could you get Gothi to look over those injuries? For my peace of mind?” Hiccup’s stomach roils at the thought. “She’s discreet,” he assures Hiccup. “I know I won’t share what we’ve talked about here, you don’t have to tell me.” He gives a pointed look to Hiccup and Snotlout. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you two either.” 

“No, sir,” Snotlout says quickly. 

“Thanks, Dad,” Hiccup smiles, tension easing out of him.

“And if you have any other injuries… that may be a bit more personal,” Gobber adds delicately. Stoick sucks in a breath and sits straight up at the implication. “Gothi won’t tell a soul either, but tell her, okay?” Stoick has gone pale.

“No!” Hiccup blurts out. “I mean, no, there’s nothing like… like that. Only this.” Hiccup stands and pulls up the front of his tunic, showing off the silvery, red scars from Krogan’s knife. He’s left his leather armor off; he doesn’t wear it most days, the buckles don’t go well with his injured hands. And he can only ask Fishlegs so many times to do up his buckles for him.. “That’s all he did, I swear!”

Stoick’s face twists at the sight. Toothless whines and lowers his head in shame. “Don’t you be blaming yourself, either,” Gobber says firmly to the dragon. “Should have come in a few minutes earlier to catch the lecture.” 

Stoick doesn’t defend himself against the accusation of lecturing (“lecturing is for teachers, not chiefs, Gobber!”). Instead, he’s giving Toothless a sincere look. “Thank you for saving him.”

“Yeah,” Snotlout snaps, mostly to himself, “now if we could just get him to resist the hatchling-eyes, he might stop Hiccup from getting into danger in the first place. Yeah, that’d be awesome.” 

Toothless shrinks in on himself. 

“No, bud.” Hiccup drops to his knees, wrapping his arms around Toothless. “It wasn’t your fault, bud. It wasn’t your fault…” 

“Listen, ya overgrown sausage,” Gobber says, looking down at Toothless, a serious expression on his face. “All the while Stoick was thanking me for rescuing him, I kept on thinking to myself  _ ‘What if I’d been better...what if I’d been faster...what if I’d been smarter...what if I’d stopped him from going to the Reprobates in the first place… if I could have only seen through the scheme to capture him…’” _ Gobber takes a deep breath. “You can drive yourself half-mad to see someone you care for hurt, the rest of the way asking yourself those ‘what if’ questions. It took me  _ months _ to stop blaming myself. Longer to stop asking those stupid questions.” Gobber looks a little lost now, eyes unfocused and looking down. It doesn’t take long for him to come back, that easy grin back on his face, looking right at Toothless. “You dragons are supposed to be more sensible than us crazy humans, leastways that’s what I’ve heard. Let’s see if you can beat my time, eh?”

Toothless tilts his head and rumbles grudgingly. Then he turns to lick the still-visible scars on Hiccup’s chest. Hiccup settles lower on his knees, taking the dragon fully into his lap. He nuzzles Toothless back, letting him tend to the wounds. Hiccup can hear Snotlout behind him. “Well,  _ they’re  _ going to be a while.” That earns a laugh from Stoick and Gobber. Hiccup flushes, but doesn’t deny it. “I’m gonna see if I can find something to eat.” 

“We’ll come with you,” Stoick says, rising from his seat. “Lace me up, Gobber?” He turns and Gobber obliges, grumbling about having a hook hand. Hiccup watches, fascinated, as Gobber works his hook hand like a pro and has Stoick all tied up again. Snotlout clears his throat awkwardly. “You got something to ask?” Stoick asks mildly. “Out with it, son. We’re all family here.” 

Snotlout shuffles from foot to foot. Hiccup watches in amusement, used to and immune to the heavy and tired look Stoick gets when he feels like he’s answered too many questions. Stoick rarely lets that look out when he’s chiefing, so Snotlout wouldn’t be familiar with it. Toothless purrs in Hiccup’s lap, adding a soothing background noise.  “I guess… just… uh… does it… you know… still hurt?” He looks up and down quickly. “You know… like in the cold or something?” 

There’s something about Snotlout’s question that hits Hiccup wrong, but he’s a little too raw to figure out why, focused more on the comfort that Toothless is offering now. Stoick’s face softens, though, so he must pick up on why Snotlout is asking. “Not really,” Stoick shrugs. “Only when the skin gets cold in really cold weather. The hair does a good job of keeping it covered, though. At least the worst parts.” 

Snotlout nods, shoulders easing. “Thanks.” 

Gobber eyes Snotlout knowingly. What is Hiccup missing here? “The longer you live with a scar, the less it hurts,” he adds. 

Snotlout is saved from answering by the impatient Nightmare growl that is heard through the door. He rushes out, cheeks pink. Stoick ruffles Hiccup’s hair, like he used to do when Hiccup was little, as he passes by. Hiccup leans into it. The touch should feel patronizing, but Hiccup only feels safe, like he can trust his dad, lean on him, even when he’s unsure of himself. Gobber pats his head as well and they’re gone. 

Hiccup smiles after them, feeling a million times better than he did coming into this meeting. He’s horrified to hear that his dad went through something so terrible too, but it makes it easier. If someone like Stoick the Vast can get captured and tortured… well, no one is invincible. And maybe Hiccup is more like Stoick than he thought. The idea fills Hiccup with warmth and he settles in, petting Toothless’ head. He doesn’t know how long they’ll be, but it doesn’t matter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's it! that's all! I'm actaully finishing a story! I hope you liked it and I hoped that you liked the bonding for the family <3 Comments are always welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> Sarah here: I'm the one who insisted on gifting it to ashleybenlove, because it was a remark she made about hiccup whump that inspired this in the first place! so you don't even have to read it, this is just a thank-you dedication!


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